As a child at an altar of stones
in the strip of woods behind my house
I swore a blood oath
to not let the days pass by
in forward looking
the mud caked on my shoes sealed the pact
I have never really kicked it off
Category Archives: psychogeography
Day 36, 2023 (no. 3)
no. 3
It’s all waiting
waiting and coffee
counting tugs
watching lines
and coffee
and waiting
at the land between the bridges
as the river disappears
into two horizons
waiting and coffee
conversing with young grackles
over this morning’s coffee
and the sun comes out
to say hello
a gothic
It’s one of those scenes that reminds me of where I’m from:
a half-desiccated deer carcass
(death by hit and run)
partially baptized
in a Southern Indiana winter cornfield