Frog Level, North Carolina

After John Hartford and Jackson Browne

We’re here where the river meets the railroad,
where waves lap and laugh at what we’ve wrought,
where we learn avarice and folly as synonyms.

We’re at frog level now midst murk and tadpoles,
slop and sounds of bull croakers in chorus. Peril,
to be sure, but neither curse nor calamity—
just consequences of conceit and occasion.

Ignorance’s kiss: the instant sense came late
to us and we closed our eyes. Now it’s at
our ankles and we sing It’s too thick to navigate,
and it’s too thin to plow. And our choristers

do not chant cartoon ribbet-ribbets except as
translation of Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas
for our times. Everybody’s gonna get wet.