2022, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, psychogeography, river life

that old dragon again…

This one is from June 2022, on the top of the downhill slide of the season, as Captain Mike Fitzgerald might call it.

I have a relationship with weather… with storms and rain in particular. I last met this old dragon on my botched walkabout in Illinois a few years back. It turned me back. Now I think Im starting to learn her name. Finally.

At the time of posting, it’s windy. The back end of a warm rain front. I’m waking up from on the overnight watch with the dragon for company. She’s hanging around in the form of wind.


that old dragon of a storm
lightening wings an empty belly
rumbling greeted me on the river
all the gossip from down current
carried on a cool wind

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2022, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry

standstill travelogue

there are no land masses here
only fog with unmeasurable tensile strength

a man beneath the underpass moans
attempting to talk vehicles passing overhead
into fiery suicides

time- suspended here – will soon reset outside the event horizion

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