Only 2 cents per acre
Seward's folly, "Wal-russia"
tent city at the mouth of Ship Creek, 1914
where Quonset huts were first homes, "a half tin can turned on its side"
a dreary episode of architectural interest (sic) and old gray tarps
(or brown or neon blue) stored everything (under the sun)
(when it shines) (which was not often)
and everything spelling m-i-l-i-t-a-r-y, like massive
buildup and strategic location (yes, you can see Russia from here) was
pure Alaskan theatre
Anchorage, a company town
in the icy crook of Knik Arm, where you can
stroll downtown and have your shoes repaired
(does anyone even do that anymore?) while shopping
for baleen baskets and ivory, quite rare and valuable (sic) you know,
downtown, our town a rail construction port
Alaska Railroad and the wild heat of discovered gold sparkles
*BUILD* and they will come!
suburban expansion hotels and stores then
epic destruction by a 9.2 (we do all things big in the history of the world)
like the discovery of big oil big ice big land
our town, Anchor-town where you can run alongside
the fastest dogs on earth (and get smoked)
and to get your style on, your sexy glamorous
in your best swagger careen (your way around rusty old pickups)
to Allure Hair Design, a day spa
and on your way over, Look UP!
small planes come and go from the snow-gritty town, 24/7
above the "Anchorage bowl" snow city
cold the down low (and if you're lucky)
maybe a bear (or two)
ambling, outside the front door