Appeared in the print journal Cirque, March 2020. Part of a larger, 12-chorus, poem.
Tower Point Lookout Blues, Chorus II
socked in northwest zephyrus wind
last night in the cold sky something fell to earth
glowing beams of yellow light across the Star River
burned out south beyond horizon
I want to walk in the trees + lose myself
1760 Road down a mile + a half to the crossroads
the 1750 right or left will take you out
the shorter rougher way or the longer smoother
I like the first but recommend the second to friends
it's all been interesting even if sometimes bad
living a life of becoming rather than just being
tho sometimes days (now into evening) feel like just being
which makes me restless + guilty but we need these days
to rest recover + gather for the next adventure
to make a clearing in our lives a base camp
tomorrow to Prinetucky + Redmond—last week
last few days on the rock before unreality
up here you cant get hurt by people or hurt anybody
just flies + yellowjackets with extreme prejudice
wind blows harder on this ridgetop
funneling like water through narrow arroyos
pouring up over the cliff down back
not complaining—kept the bugs down + me cool in July
I worry about the news + politics + lies below
grateful to be out of it tho wondering if avoiding
what could I do to help? call a bought politician?
