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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Spartacus” Down in the Dirt, v178 (the December 2020 Issue) Order the paperback book:

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Not Hart Crane’s River

Dan Cuddy

always start with a river
you are either in motion
or, if too lazy with inner or outer inertia,
you are swept along,
like dust in the wind
or rust on the handle bar of a bike,
but let’s get away from wheels,
liquid rolls as well,
and nothing better than quicksilver.

But you are in and on the river.
your arms are thrashing
or behind your head,
cushioning it,
you are so still looking at the sky
as you zoom past tree limbs overhead,
the clouds moving, morphing,
but you can’t inspect their low wisps,
you are moving so quickly in your nap,
your eyes hardly open before they close.
This is the life, effortless,
the friction of the cool breeze you are making,
and yes, there is a falls in the distance,
a fall,
your coming to the sharp rocks
that have a pointed message for you,
if only for that moment when your head
is torn off and your consciousness
is foam on the river below,
bubbles popping in the water below,
no pain
hopefully
in the flow of unconsciousness,
dissolution.

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