The River

You and I are

distant cities joined

as cities have always been joined:

by a great river—

in this case, language

I float Meaning down

the foamy channel

like paper sailboats

hoping the rapids are

not too rough

and the folds

are tight enough

and the winds are favorable

so you might receive

what I intend

But now,

we have choked the river

with our own refuse

spewing from machines built

from stolen toil

What comes into port

may be Meaning

or only Meaning-shaped

and you can never know

until you take a whiff.