Grappling Hooks and Where
to Heave Them
In what direction did
lost men veer?
Cormac McCarthy
The Road
once they’re steady enough
in the sway the occasional calm
wave
they aim straight
through
their own mind
they’re left weighing
the throw,
going
cold,
motionless
as rust
or right
into
the wide kite
of
the sky
and
the broken glass-coated string,
is
blood
up the cheek
down through the grass,
the broken lily pads
through through to the bottom
but there is no bottom
only
fathom
un-
fathom
fathom
un
fathom
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