loaded mountain man

burn the buried building while we can
decline to erect stadiums in old quarries
think of the lumberjacks shining, swimming.
they had banquets then with real mountainmen
wild boys of the land trading funky specimens
of beaver pelts, axes, grindcorn, mexican
medicinal rubs, gunpowder
and the one they call wilt-a-weed.
that one made you curl up in the sun
like a kitty-kat.

in any case they had no beverage sponsor.
there were sherlock wizards counting their purchases
spying on them through magic boxes in the televisions,
computers, smart phones, lecticorns, spy-boxes,
federally mandated spy-cells and mini cams
they put in all those pills
that we swallow.