Jason Baldinger: to hold back the water

~~~~

satellite dishes turn imperceptibly slow
overcast sky, faraday mountains
data beams toward stars, planets
the inspiration of civilizations waits
for, or lies, about contact
in the upside-down hotel
men in black golf through white noise

a hail of bullets inside a mason jar
red bandana tied
over the grill of a subaru
dodging carpet bombs
dumptrucks haul half of the state out
bodies buried in secret
haunt the poverty of ridgelines

big sid hatfield crumples
clean of conspiracy
takes four in the chest
gored bullets clog stairwells
welch county courthouse
orange jumpsuits
work pickup basketball
under blooms of razor wire
you know john hardy
was a desperate little man

the tug fork cuts deep
glacial scars in coal valleys
shots of 1922 echo
heavy smoke turns to cloud bursts
standing in mine run-off drizzle
among coffee can and pvc
iron cross and plaster lamb

humble memorials
to generations fought and generation lost
to silence etched along flood walls
to a history enough to hold back the water

~~~~

Jason Baldinger has spent a life in odd jobs, if only poetry was the strangest of them he’d have far less to talk about. Somewhere in time he has traveled the country, and wrote a few books, including “The Lower 48” (Six Gallery Press) and the chapbook “The Studs Terkel Blues” (Night Ballet Press). 

Photograph and poem copyright 2024 Jason Baldinger