THE RIVER

I left you arid.
Thirst kept me company.
The aqueduct a suit
of summer asphalt.
Chalk lined the corners
of your wide mouth.
Distance made the heart
parch. Eagles perched
in their swaying nest
above the banks. I skipped
a few stones. To starve
loneliness. The ripples never
enough. I drained tributaries
to eject into spaces
I’ve always run aground.
The forest thinned at the fork.
You did what I made you do.
You were electrified to fix
past mistakes. The future
slithered off the path.
I rested, for a month,
& watched eagle eggs
fail to hatch. Humorless dawn
made water rare. I left,
teeming with dust,
to find you again.

THE NEXT BIG THING

The fields plea for tender,
prayer here is transactional.

The next big thing is texture
forever, hot orange-red rows.

A banana slug shrivels
with dull hum but blessings

in mounds of crisp leaves.
Blessings of the human sort,

a cynicism I fail to refute
daily. Half-baked acts

of pastoral; scythe to cornstalks,
stretch sideways toward moon.

I clip some leafy locks
for remembrance, a brownish

mare hind-kicks; I’m pathetic
tinder & dodge hooves, spread

kernels to remember. Anonymous
hand furnishes fields with fuel.

Worst case, it burns to silence
the crickets. I weaken, moon

spotlights my stealth, & blesses
the ignition lying in wait,

the wind whistling a tune
that’s long for this world.