From Fire Season Pastoral


1.
At 7:45 AM through a window
on the left side of the E train,
the particle count is so high
that the trees and houses
and power lines of the next 9 miles
quantize with shading.
I'm traveling to a city
where the distance is
measurable only in harm,
and when the doors close
someone offers to sell me a taser
it happens at some point
on most routes.
When they test the pulse,
it sounds like the automatic dealer
has reshuffled a thousand cards.

2.
rolling blackouts begin
a state of emergency
gentlemanly accidents
and urges idk
in a radioactive sense
speaking with mouthfuls
of dirge and arrival
had a panic attack
had an asthma attack
on a bus to Long Beach
with no AC and my phone
overheated as I took
my pulse with its timer
so I counted the shops
named variations of
"Paradise" visible
from the bus instead
there were eight
the anticipation
is the worst part
and then the smoke
is second worst
rolling blackouts still
in place as though accidental
as though hills or family
road trip hiring timeline
I want to say yes to the
shutdown but every time
it's the wrong one
rolling blackouts and
AQI alerts in place again
tithes of molten
air thick as a surface
even to the depths
the moon slits unvoiced
overhead a hot lung
in the soot protective
charm of latticed diplomats
drilling in the English
gardens of deep time
after work I drag
my emotional support
ice across the city
and release it into the waves

3.
The river calls again
like an outstanding balance,
I walk the edge with reverence
and avoidance, where the season curls
through the wires
as they handle the curves,
the mossed grooves groveling
past the profession of the place,
not a name nor anything
you could miss not having.
This river is hard to catch in action.
I couldn't trust the birds until I saw the trash
flung limbward in the current.
Then I knew how the birds got there.