Excerpt from Gunslinger

American Poetry Review, The, Jan/Feb 2002 by Dorn, Edward

Gunslinger is an epic (or anti-epic) poem of four volumes in over zoo book pages. These excerpts are from its beginning through book I, with jumps in the text indicated by . . . .

The curtain might rise anywhere on a single speaker

I met in Mesilla

The Cautious Gunslinger

of impeccable personal smoothness

and slender leather encased hands

folded casually

to make his knock.

He would show you his map.

There is your domain.

is it the domicile it looks to be

or simply a_retinal block

of seats in,

he will flip the phrase

the theater of impatience.

If if is where you are,

the footstep in the flat above

in a foreign land

or any shimmer the city

sends you

the prompt sounds

of a metropolitan nearness

he will unroll the map of locations.

His knock resounds

inside its own smile, where?

I ask him is my heart.

Not this pump he answers

artificial already and bound

touching me

with his leathern finger

as the Queen of Hearts burns

from his gauntlet into my eyes.

Flageolets of fire

-he says there will be.

This is for your sadly missing heart

the girl you left

in Juarez, the blank

political days press her now

in the narrow adobe

confines of the river town

her dress is torn

by the, misadventure of

her gothic search

The mission bells are ringing

in Kansas

Have you left something out:

Negative, says my Gunslinger,

no thing is omitted.

Time is more fundamental than space.

It is, indeed, the most pervasive

of all the categories

in other words

theres plenty of it

And it stretches things themselves

until they blend into one,

so if youve seen one thing

youve seen them all.

I held the reins of his horse

while he went into the desert

to pee. Yes, he reflected

when he returned, that's less.

How long, he asked

have you been in this territory.

Years I said. Years.

Then you will know where we can have

a cold drink before sunset and then a bed

will be my desire

if you can find one for me

I have no wish to continue

my debate with men,

my mare lathers with tedium

her hooves are dry

Look they are covered with the alkali

of the enormous space

between here and formerly.

Need I repeat, we have come

without sleep from Nuevo Laredo.

And why do you have such a horse

Gunslinger? I asked. Don't move

he replied

the,sun rests deliberately

on the rim of the sierra.

And where will you now I asked.

Five days northeast of here

depending of course on whether one's horse

is of iron or flesh

there is a city called Boston

and in that city there is a' hotel

whose second floor has been let

to an inscrutable Texan named Hughes

Howard? I asked

The very same.

And what do you mean by inscrutable,

oh Gunslinger?

I mean to say that He

has not been seen since 1833

But when you have found him my Gunslinger

what will you do, oh what will you do?

You would not know

that the souls of old Texans

are in jeopardy in a way not common

to other men, my singular friend.

You would not know

of the long plains night

where they carry on

and arrange their genetic duels

with men of other states

so there is a longhorn bull half mad

half deity

who awaits an account from me

back of the sun you nearly disturbed

just then. I

Lets have that drink.

STRUM

STRUM

And by that sound

we had come there, false fronts

my Gunslinger said make

the people mortal

and give their business

an inward cast. They cause culture.

Honk HONK,Honk HONK Honk

that sound comes

at the end of the dusty street,

where we meet the gaudy Madam

of that very cabaret going in

where our drink is to be drunk

Hello there, Slinger! Long time

no see

what brings you, who's your friend,

to these parts, and where

if you don't mind my asking, Hello,

are you headed...

Boston!? you don't say, Boston

is an actionable town they say

never been there myself

Not that I mean to slight the boys

but I've had some nice girls

from up Boston way

they turned out real spunky!

But you look like you

always did Slinger, you

still make me- shake, I mean

why do you think I've got my hand on

my hip if not to steady myself

and the way I twirl this

Kansas City parasol

if not to keep the dazzle

of them spurs outa my eyes

Miss Lil! I intervened

you musn't slap my

Gunslinger on the back

in such an off hand manner

I think the sun, the moon

and some of the stars are

kept in their tracks

by this Person's equilibrium

or at least I sense some effect

on the perigee and apogee of all

our movements in this, I can't quite say,

man's presence, the setting sun's

attention I would allude to

and the very appearance

of his neurasthenic mare

a genuine Nejdee

lathered, as you can see, with abstract fatigue

Shit, Slinger! you still got that

marvelous creature, and who is this

funny talker, you pick him up

in some sludgy seat of higher

learnin, Creeps! you always did

hang out with some curious refugees.

Anyway come up and see me

and bring your friend, anytime

if you're gonna be in town we

got an awful lot to talk about

Do you know said the Gunslinger

as he held the yellow tequila up

in the waning light of the cabaret

that this liquid is the last

dwindling impulse of the sun

and then he turned and knelt

and faced that charred orb

as it rolled below the swinging doors

as if it were entering yet descending

and he said to me NO!

it is not. It is that

cruelly absolute sign my father