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Prologue to a Bidding

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Though each single life occurs
in a series of occasions
         striking only by what
blurry context
         precedes them
               So come to know
               what I should have wanted
               to say—from
an internal perspective
there is no series. Only
         event. Music knocks
us down. His brow
               shadowing the guitar player’s
         accipitrine eyes. Tile roofs
glistening under rain.
On a dirt road
a resuscitative walk.
               The kite hits
         the copperhead. Cicadas
halt. The air blanks.
         And strangers crane up
         from whatever they are doing
to meet your gaze as you go past,
         thinking, I am with you, I am
                                    you.

Forrest Gander, “Prologue to a Bidding” from Lynchburg. Copyright © 1993 by Forrest Gander. All rights are controlled by the University of Pittsburgh Press. Reprinted with the permission of the University of Pittsburgh Press, www.upress.pitt.edu.
Source: Lynchburg (1993)
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Prologue to a Bidding

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