buttermilk skeleton the moon is a ghost buttermilk skeleton rising against afternoon I cross from maryland in search of coastal waters these traditions, these miles add up still unsolvable herons fish under loblolly and cypress these waterways, these estuaries this sky darkens in gridlock I walk past the last lights of christmas a storm blows in I hear its voice in each wave eyes focus on speeding clouds funny, how we don't remember our lives before the moment everything changed years pile up as vacant memories haunted shelters reveling in abandon but if I look hard I see myself a wraith vague within the deluge crowds shout and cheer as seconds tick away fireworks open the sky a small welcome explosion we ante up once again prepare for a grand finale I pour champagne down my throat, into foam water ebbs at the edge of my boots licks sand clean all these offerings another series of prayers here's to the chaos of the universe
About the Author: Jason Baldinger is a poet and photographer from Pittsburgh, PA. He’s penned fifteen books of poetry the newest of which include: A History of Backroads Misplaced: Selected Poems 2010-2020 (Kung Fu Treachery), and This Still Life (Kung Fu Treachery) with James Benger. His first book of photography, Lazarus, as well as two ekphrastic collaborations (with Rebecca Schumejda and Robert Dean) are forthcoming. His work has appeared across a wide variety of online sites and print journals. You can hear him from various books on Bandcamp and on lps by The Gotobeds and Theremonster. His etsy shop can be found under the tag la belle riviere.
Image Credit: Peder Severin Krøyer “Skagen Beach in Moonlight” (1899) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 