dog days of june

the sky broke loose a couple months early

to let in a heat bubble

for a slow bake

refusing to peter out

even when dark falls

you watch your fluids shrink

before they reach the skin

down at the giant eagle

a few cars are leaving oil slicks

before & after the check-out lines

like a shooting & car jacking

that made the morning news

the pavement and even the grass

is too hot for the canines

the backyard squirrels aren't moving

the last finch i saw left two days ago

the two mourning doves have gone

their separate ways

there aren't many more ways

to say the word

ways

--- e b bortz

earth note 805

we left the oregon coast

for the interior

a hawk with a six-foot wingspan

sailed east

breaking out of the pines

the mosquitoes rose & coalesced

looking for a new direction

before sundown

the peaks on the three sisters

held out their hands

wind clapping rhythmically

their smile when you least expect it

--- e b bortz

we had no right to be here

but we came anyway

a conscripted boot maker in the czarist army

on my paternal grandfather's side

and the skilled hands of a tinsmith

on my maternal grandfather's side

and the grandmothers of a new generation

sweating through many child births

rat infested tenements

cramped apartments above drug stores

mumbling rabbis on shabbos

we escaped out of the shtetls of lithuania and poland

without documents

we came anyway

we landed with the millions

displacing the original people

people of the forest     plains     mountains

robbed and starved but not defeated

a vast beautiful land forced into servitude

like a machine

like a dollar

twisted from its original mission

smothered in the laws and rules of europe

but we came anyway

to join the wild rivers

without baptisms

without letters

in the tongue of generations

when we should

have been listening

we came anyway

--- e b bortz

the radio tries to chatter on

through the hot damp hills

of missouri & arkansas

abandoned grain silo rust buckets

holding syncopated beats

as long as possible

storm clouds gathering

looking toward a

drying up by the time

you reach the panhandles

and then new mexico

multitudes of wordsmiths & string pickers

laying out another broken trail

long before & after the last freight cars

took the journey west

starting out like hot steel rails east saint louis

or maybe even further east

straddling the twists & turns of ohio valley

carbon sink holes

when rain hits the ozarks

head for higher ground

the roads will have already

joined the rivers & tornado warnings

most of the radio signals will have gone to ground

keep looking for a ridge road pull away to save you

or an overpass and patience

might be your best stance

watch for stray animals & travelers in need

when there's a break in the sky

the moon & sun may stand alone

sometimes confused

before the stars appear

hydroplane is not a new kind of aircraft

so watch for bottomless hollows

tree limbs

washed out bridges

train whistles

roadhouses

and the first sign of desert buttes

--- e b bortz 

the walls could sing

at the red star cafe

cleveland west side

everything gone now

including a lot of the poets

but build it again

& they'll come

could there be anything

more timely than

another red star cafe

there aren't any code words here

or propaganda subterfuge

     all it was

was a wild west side word fest

words filled up in backpacks

and spiral notebooks

     open mics

coming out of the back alleys

& off the buses

and then afterwards

a diner across the avenue

and more hours of

words and obscure (pre-search engine)

mind exercises

i really don't know

how it all started

     or ended

i was lucky enough

to be a drifter in time

if there ever was a night

when the walls caved in

or rage rose up

& the whispers finally stopped

in their winter tracks

it might just have been

the luck of the draw

or the holiest

of coincidences

--- e b bortz

earth note 804

split rail plus cyclone

might lead to an empty chair

the trail veers off toward the ravine

where the trees are aging

with the seasons

every root

a vein

brings you to a crossroads

--- e b bortz 

earth note 803

kansas prairie

when black earth

reaches the sunset

rub a handful

into your lifeline

--- e b bortz

early signs of brown leaves & brown shirts

the trail is covered with them

clusters are spreading

like vines strangling

a sliver of a clark gable mustache

comes with an antebellum twist

of coup plotters ironing out

their platforms

for the gray minions

fast cash for sleepwalkers

desecrating the land

--- e b bortz

earth note 802

there's something

about a mourning dove

strutting across the roof

head bobbing rhythm

staying only long enough

to do a quick check

on the rain gutters

so what is that

     something

     i dunno

left without a sound

--- e b bortz