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local nova drafts » Alder Town

Created on 11.6.2011 by . Updated on 6.14.2017

We swim where there was no swimming
before the dam. Children once threw darts
into the creosote of a train trestle
now submerged in the reservoir.

He would cook oats over a fire in the morning,
help carry buckets of concrete.

— Lay your France Rifle on the beach like a fond wind.

When the lake water recedes there are sidewalks.
Wackerle’s drop biscuits brand memories of the dead.
Cast iron stoves were relocated but still imprint the silt.

It’s so low today. Lower than usual.
Listen for the crash of incoming water before running–
Stand beyond the slack log boom
and identify old foundations and chimneys.
Pines cast shadows where thirty years of my skin cells
litter the exposed grade.

I found the grave marker,
1945: Blue Us, Azure Time.

— Lay your France Rifle on the beach like a slack rope.

Aluminum Coors, not rusted.
Old creeks find their way back through carbon.
Track fresh cougar prints down to the waterline.
Trees were cut down and their four-foot high stumps
appear again during dry seasons.

The electricity will make our sacrifice worthy–
Give us the distinction of helping war production.
The train trestle would not be needed
after the highway was built. Let it submerge.
Fine darts strike church pews on higher ground
where praying relocated to.

Best way to make a buck.
Best sound to hear in the morning before enlisting.

— Lay your France Rifle on the beach like a woman.

Dams were good to build–
Settlements can be moved.

Enough electricity to build an Elbe bomber–
Enough electricity for arc welding in south Tacoma.
The old hotel is still recognizable by its foundation
when the water is gone. The pounding on the walls,
unable to find who was doing it–

Maybe you can fly one too some day.
That sound over there, the dynamite charge.

— Lay your France Rifle on the beach before you’re gone.

And sidewalks can be brushed of silt
when the water is low. We hauled buildings
from where you now swim– It was okay.
“A bomber every seventy seconds.”

Lights stay on in farther regions.
The percussions in each grain of silt disturbed.

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