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By. mattjaneski

Riverrush and down –
green bank swollen with the meltrain of spring,
life has returned to us.

So follow the Dead River to the Great Swamp
and stand on the yellow line,
knee deep in it.

 

Bend to break the plane of it –
what rushes by,
what when the fisher gropes the undersea?

Leaves, plastic,
passing over and around until:

Feel the draw of your last human keeper
and return from the water into which you leapt so long ago.
Return to the fisher with his trident buried in the jogging river.

Everything then turns and returns to you.

***

In my roadside bed morning’s scene
was so different from the last violent night.
So foreign from that last violent night
of the abrading touch,
torn to shreds,
or rushed towards the final scene.

From the traffic stopped in summer work
a human hum
to this face not mine,
to soothe in the rattling present.

***

The last day of summer,
going over the junk heap,
riding your pony over hardpack;
then evening you lay across the watercress,
where have you gone to now,
buddy?

Where have you gone to now?
Tomorrow is the first day of school.
I can hear you on the transcontinental,
but the numbers come out upside down,
turned,
instead of your coordinates,
I have hieroglyphs, useless.
Instead of another place,
you are in the great wash
somewhere near the Sound.

***

After the concussion and tears,
after the tick and whistle
of monitors and alarms,
it did come true:
I ascended
among wings of every size.
I was wrapped in light
unbent by moisture or lenses,
focused as things naturally focus,
counseled with no hesitation,
and turned to pure sleep in heart of the light.

 I see things in my head and then I try to describe them. Some of the things are memories, some are fiction. When I fail to accurately describe what I see the result is pleasing lyrical verses. 

Drama Queen is a band from Ukraine.