Gas Turbines and Commanding Glaciers

It was an easy-fitting judgement
on the house of gas turbines
caught alongside the asymmetries
of tired wars and oblong thrush spotted breasts
thunderous and stridently escaping flames
nocturnal ambisonics lent station rations
like the glowing froideur of May tidings
sandwich boards and street maps
collecting vessels of heat across a loud expanse
thinking sternly about the counterpoint
in the poems of commanding glaciers