River of Saviors (a haibun)

Washing in the river. Washing myself clean. Clean of the dirt and grime of a society gone mad. This is the way of my ancestors, to wash in the river away from the frenzies of the city. The water is cool, and my blood runs ice-cold when I step inside. I feel the purity of the saints.

River cleanses me
Of evil impurities
Baptismal waters

Continue reading “River of Saviors (a haibun)”

Euphoria (a poem)

The river meanders

dividing line of Philly & Jersey

fog drifts off blue-black water

on the way to the concert

you can hear music reverberate

feel chilly breeze on your skin

men & women pulsing with

sexual energy

some of them tipsy

touch my hand

tell me you understand

let me know I’m alive –

the warmth of your body

the coldness of steel handlebars

ready for a night of euphoria

(Photo by Matt Power on Unsplash)

The High Priest of Saturn (a poem)

The Hight Priest of Saturn tends to his parish –

you didn’t expect to find him here

hidden in this Rust Belt town

a town eager for rebirth

a town that’s lost its youth

who’ve fled the flaking steel mills that die

on the banks of the purple river –

The High Priest of Saturn expects a successor

someone to continue the cleansing

the vicarious pleasure of standing

before Saturn, our merciful Maker.

(Photo from sciencenewsforstudents.org)

Note: This poem was inspired by High Priest of Saturn, a musical group self-described as in the psychedelic doom genre. I’ve been listening to more groups like them lately, so I guess the cool band name was caught in my head!