There’s something so beautiful about this part of summer: the endless days, the sun pounding on the sides of red brick, the electricity pulsing through the streets. It’s a time of relaxation and a time of celebration.
There was a tornado in my hometown a few weeks ago. The photos you’re about to see are ones that I took when I visited home. For me, this poem marks a change in my typical writing…I feel like you all have only seen the bitter, jaded side of me. I’m trying to rectify that.
The Pit in My Stomach Caused By Saccharine Sweetness.
I stood under the Summit Street electrical lines
on a bright new day,
as wood,
twisted by force majure–
branches awaiting their chipped fate–
lay in piles near the old Detweiler pool.
I've passed by these lines
a hundred times over a hundred years ago:
Uninteresting, uninspiring, steadfast.
But as I stood under these electrical lines
after the eclipse of year 26–
the sky was large and full and all encompassing—
for the first time in 26 years,
I heard the crackle of currents
running through those wires,
running coast to coast.
If those corn field wind farms,
and coal power plants,
and the Fermi nuclear plant in Southwest Michigan
power even your
New York apartment alarm clock,
they’ve done good.
They’ve done well.
This week’s track is Waco, a bonus track off of The Mountain Goats’ 2002 album All Hail West Texas. The sweetest song you’ll ever hear about a cult, it describes a community spending their time waiting for the promised land to come.
(The title of this issue of the newsletter is taken from the song).
Your assignment this week is to go out and make the most of your summer.
*BREAKING NEWS*
I’m going to be hosting @openbook.nyc July 19th! Check out more information on their Instagram account! (I also designed the posters!)
Have I plugged my social media accounts yet?
*NEW* Threads: @/PolaroidsPoetry
Instagram: @/PolaroidsPoetry
and of course: