crawdad

Dale Nelson

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278 deviations

Literature

One Moment

One Moment I can read my future in crows I hold my breath just before I'm not afraid of anything rational I don't believe much of what I hear I compulsively write everything down and am absorbed by the city although isolated somewhat like a cold precise moon above midtown. The first crow is the crow of chance. It floats in over the fence and out again without stopping. What will I walk into? It is better not to stop. The second crow stands for love. It flies erratic. It moves in subversive ways boldly on the porch. Has at the window. Stalls for time. Won't come in but won't leave. What it knows is why the leaves pile in weak plac

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One Moment by crawdad, literature

Literature

One Moment

Poem: by crawdad, literature

Swamp Gas by crawdad, literature

Literature

Swamp Gas

In the heart of the city freight trains pulverize what little remains in the wildest mountains out back of a contemporary orchard on top of a ladder under the stars walking through recalcitrant cars wispy liberties in the heart of the city madmen in small town cattle trucks like satellite constellations overabundant procedural difficulties trawlers abandoning continents, their nets mill supervisors reading books of religious philosophy outer California wildcats pounce objectively the national standard flaps in the procedural wind a nasty wet cloud that won't rain fulminates a few miles to the east thousands of empty weapon-he

Nothing Burns Hotter Than Manz by crawdad, literature

Literature

Nothing Burns Hotter Than Manz

Nothing Burns Hotter Than Manzanita Whereas alchemy is desire punched into the sponge of need, therefore blended by sparkling ash and waiting upon forthcoming loaves, and satisfaction is the butter, limp and liquid, last reaction of the fine elastic crumb and crust, turned out steaming on our common table, so the fire (come and gone, carried home, kindled and consumed, a restless conjuration in a firebox: manzanita joints nested like rebroken bones) is the combination of an oath, and a practice, and what is wanted.

Natives by crawdad, literature

Literature

Natives

The yew seduces in its hill. A light terror hastens the mariposa lily. I am at a standstill under the north, Heavy ribbed white fir creep toward the ridge and fall into the woods at Abalobadiah. When it is cold there are no symbols over the field of mint but seated in it. Watery blue blossoms fall in the rain where I am slipping through. Downhill tan oak twist and turn. Redwood never sleeps, rises and falls through crack'd interiors. Bless me. Pepperwood. To stand under. Soft. Buckeye incants over a dry waterfall, no se. No palabre. Speech would be hopeless. Native animals are not afraid, they are wary, skipping th