fannishliss

Thirteen Ways of Looking at Sam and Dean
(with apologies to Wallace Stevens)

I
Among twenty snowy parking lots,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of an older brother.

II
I was of three minds,
Like a motel room
In which there are two brothers and a demon.

III
A demon whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of Pandemonium.

IV
Sam and Dean
Are one.
Sam and Dean and the Impala
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of Dean
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
Sam’s moment of understanding,
Or just after.

VI
The deal filled the long year
With barbaric excesses.
The shadow of the demon
Crossed it, at first and in the end.
The mood
Traced on Dean’s face
An unavoidable resolution.

VII
O women of fandom,
Why do you imagine golden bodies?
Do you not see how demons
Walk in the bodies
Of everyone around them?

VIII
Sam knows the old Latin,
its lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But Dean knows, too,
That demons are involved
In what he knows.

IX
When the Impala drove out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X
At the sight of demons
Flying in a heavy cloud,
Even the bawds of chaos
Would cry out sharply.

XI
Dean rode over Connecticut
In a ‘67 Impala.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his baby
For a hellhound.

XII
The Impala is moving.
The brothers must be flying.

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
Two brothers sat
In their motel room.