2026, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, the no-scape

[The Water Dragon in the Year of the Fire Horse]

The soundtrack for reentry involves a strong base line
an electric guitar, and deep earth anger focused
into high beam love.

What the mistake is, is believing love just is light.
Love is also the dark byproduct, the will, the drive
the expansive power to move the engines of all the worlds.
Love lives in the dark and shimmers and calls forth.

Rolling out to Baltimore on a not too full bus, I remembered myself.
The mind unknotting itself, the bones
untangle and unfurl. I am the night hawk of light and shadow
an eclipse, a solar wind, a lunar soul, a wing, a song, a convection current, a prevailing wind.

These wings, these feet, these lungs inhale
thunder and exhale lightning. Returned, rested, and embraced
I breathe fire and plumb the deepest channels
upon which the entire globe floats.

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2024, Days, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, the no-scape, Working Class Literature

Day 60, 2024

[note from the archivist:]

self [lost]
in the vast
uncharted
lands of fiction

all maps / reports
sent ahead
on a raft
of murmurating pigeons

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2024, Days, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, river life, the no-scape, Working Class Literature

Day 25, 2024

thus, look upon the goghead
all wild wooly and sleek
gator-like in the dark
driven ashore with the high water
amongst the driftwood and mud
like birth, something sort of biblical
after the manner of Cain
banished, blessed

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