This is the Age of Dionysus,
the dismemberment of an anthropocentric planet,
the god who inspired it, and of the desperate search for his
rotted limbs.
Fresh horseshit shares the trail
with expensive walking shoes; animals jut out
from the knobs
of trees.
Who
are we in the shape of things? "It
doesn’t start out with something
that
looks like a monkey,
and the something that looks like an ape, and
then something
that looks like a
human, and then all of the sudden
you've
got people. It’s much more complicated than
that."