graphics mode c r o s s X c o n n e c t previous | next

| main page
| issue contents
| contributors
| e-mail us
   e v e r y    r i v e r

--- A M Y   H O L M A N

In 1993, three Montana artists won a state grant to paint large words in vegetable dye on the flanks of cows, and then photograph their impromptu phrasings.

Blue beyond repair, every river runs between us. Do I see way clear to forgive? Cows spread out like words-- magic, or flowers by the fence.

They sing to call us back: bloo, blooo. Similar hearts, similar cages, how long do we banish our love? Every river is the sea, way it circles earth. We surfaced

the fractures, stumbled, and seamed in triumph. No sound like the waves that crash with us, boxing our bodies in a boil of breakers. Brother and

sister were always separate. We shared the game. And look at us, now, mimicking waves, currents, undertow--what is your name, wait for me, I'm gone.

© crossconnect 1995-2000 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |