2025, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, the no-scape

the call sign is Jonah, lately of the great fish

all the songs this morning are rambling songs
has the profane algorithm found me
or is god speaking in the voice
of Ramblin’ Jack Elliot and Rosalie Sorrels

being just ‘stitious enough to consider the possibility 
the day may come when I do indeed start walking
until I someday fall and turn into a tree
like my friend Jeri once described to me -- I finished

fighting currents several miles back and here
I just want to lay my head in a comfortable place
the world is erasing itself and someday I’ll be sand too
but can’t I just hide in her arms and pass by this road

dear lord, why not

2024, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, Working Class Literature

The imagination machine idealized as perfect pitch

This head is a tuning fork.
The air is sometimes more solid than supposed.

This head rings up to the same pitch
regardless
how much noise and light pollution it strikes.

Sometimes the air is petroleum jelly thick
and the imagination machine slogs through

though not without the usual wear and tear.

2023, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, the no-scape, Working Class Literature

from “These Electronica Mornings”

The soundtrack is colorful, monotonous
a clear sunrise sky over today’s dismal downtown scene.

Do not trust the clocktower, nor its keepers.