the sudden and nearly complete immolation of outlook montana
	my kind of town
	--------------------------------------------------------------------

	i love this land her land -- outlook being
	one county over on the vast northern plains
	over there the sharp flare of sun ignites the air to make a baby
	blue sky
	rolls the dry steppe as far as the watering eye can see
	trees in green cottonwood fences the lazy infrequent streams
	silvers the extra-absorbent concrete-tamponed missouri
	at ft. peck

	tv brought me the icons
	the beneficent golden bomb in the sky
	the scorched to black diesel train
	which parked for fear of bringing fire
	yet sparked outlook montana
	sending up a wall of flame
	burning all the sweetgrass
	all four grain elevators
	twenty-four modest homes
	the only general store
	sparing lives churches and the lonely bar
	on halloween

	in the atlas
	a little circle to a name
	exaggerated by fine map-making
	diminished
	by a shishkabob of a a sparking train
	sitting on a spur of the great northern line

	i wish to write her.
	this to say:

	hi.  and hey.
	i knew -- without knowing.
	i saw -- without looking.
	i motioned vaguely -- before being told.

	something was going on in outlook.
	outlook itself was going!
	looking out through my looking glass
	i reflect on my own igniting.  you train girl you.

		Marek Lugowski
		3 November 1999
		Chicago, Illinois