Dan Provost

Route 26—

 

You’re my

kindred spirit.

 

Taking me by the hand,

leading me down back roads

that gleam the inner light—for a while.

 

Paths that paddle between Maine

and New Hampshire, daring,

to locate content--

 

I fret, then find, that one

pine tree that humbly

will converse.

 

Her soothing tongue flails in

the wind as she tells me to go

 

that way…

 

Towards the water—

Where many plant

their fears,

 

and wishes,

 

to a flowing infinity that

never comments, judges or

tries to give stale advice…

 

I am not used to

finding sanctuary into the stare

of a stream,

 

Glinting, glistering.

 

The surge of noise shimmers

and sways—bouncing off rocks,

toward delivery into a once

erased soul…

 

I am still comfortable

seeing the torrent alone.

 

The isolation is my companion.

Pillars, a haven of my security.

 

The hum of spraying flow of course—

 

Quiet self-flattery.

 

Route 26.

Amusing, I have an

easier time reflecting

on the dark side of our

relationship.

 

For many weeks, you

were my suicide ideation.

 

A potential hiding place, within

the deep, dark, depressed

unused forest—that seemed

to stretch for miles.

 

Where my body would

hang—swinging from a sadden

Oak…

 

Time would fly, my existence

only a worried memory.

 

Bemoan a purpose

and you end up ecstatic

in solitude—

 

This might not be the worst

case scenario.

 

Route 26, you also serve

as a symbol of the beatings

I took as a child from a perplexing

father.

 

a provider for my milieu needs.

 

Taking my courage, my self-worth,

my opportunity to find normal…

 

without being frightful of being

hit or ridiculed.

 

The isolated woods bring me to a time

of walking…

 

Just walking, through the woods of safety…

Smelling the summer pine and feeling the

needles on the ground.

 

This is where I retreated to get away from

Dad’s black moods…

 

When the house became eerie and

you walked on eggshells, not to anger

the wild beast.

 

Route 26, you bring me reminders…of

Good and bad

Light and dark

Lonely but loved…

 

I will now go

home to my Laura.

 

Sigh as I enter the house,

kissing my soul survivor.

 

There are no inquiring questions

About what, where, when…

 

why.

 

Just love from beauty.

An understanding of who

I am…Where I’ll be—until

Mr. Jones, the Grim Reaper,

Solstice blues or some

other gangster/unruly preacher…

 

Will take me away to walk, see, observe

love & hate…somewhere I have never

 

been.

 

 

 


Flores

 

You’ll probably never get a

chance to coach in the NFL again…

 

Jerry Jones turns to

Bob Kraft,

 

winks—

and orders another Midori drink

at the owners meeting…

 

Yea…

 

 


Bull Fight

 

Never wanted the beast

to die in my dreams.

 

I cursed the matador, while the

fixed, disgusting battle came to

an end.

 

Then, I blighted the bull, for

doing nothing to defend itself…

 

Nothing is beautiful

until it retaliates.



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The views and opinions expressed throughout belong to the individual artists and may or may not coincide with those of the other artists (or editors) represented within the magazine. Hobo Camp Review supports a free-for-all atmosphere of artistic expression, so enjoy the poetry, fiction, opinions, and artwork within, read with an open mind, and comment wisely. Thanks for stopping by the Camp!