From our July issue, Two Poems by Cameron Witbeck. Stay tuned for burnout smoke, cannibalism, and the weirdest footprints you’ve ever seen.
1. “The Mecosta Burnout” has a terrific sense of place. How did you dredge this up?
I grew up in Mecosta County. My best friend, a Mr. Tyler Leon Thomas of Canadian Lakes, Mi., begged me to go to the event with him. He was all like”Bro. Burnout. Let’s go.”
I acquiesced.
2. Something tells me that this place is difficult to get out of. Will she break those chains, and if so, where would she go?
Anyone who’s been to a burnout will tell you that the best part is the smoke. You live in it. You can’t see anything. You forget the chains. A burnout isn’t a drag race- it’s car and driver flaunting. It’s flexing. It’s saying, “Just imagine what I could do.”
If she went anywhere after the burnout, it was probably the bar in Chippewa Lake.
3. May I have your thoughts on Bruce Springsteen?
Ohhhhhh…that’s how he spells his last name.
4. What is the most frightening or exotic creature you’ve ever seen in the wilderness?
I’ve stood ten feet from a cow moose. I’ve woken up to the howls of wolves so close I felt them in my chest. But the most terrified I’ve ever been in the woods was near Hannah Lake, when I was a kid. A swan attacked me.
It was a giant, beautiful swan and it just kept coming after me, like an avian Terminator. It chased me, hopping and flapping and pecking, for at least a quarter mile.
5. Why is our desire to consume each other so strong?
If you’ve ever butchered your own meat, from kill to pan, you know that you have to be in love. What can you make from the viscera and tendons? How will you prepare the heart? You peel muscle from the bone with your bare-hands, because you’d lose some if you used a knife.
Cannibalism is the logical extreme of passion. It is the physical act of wanting without end.
6. Who left these strange tracks in the snow?
It depends- on depth of imprint, on aging, on length and width, on shape, on stride rhythm, on the narrative of sign.
My best guess: an old woman. A bad hip. The left one. She wears a helmet when she collects pop cans.