from Temazcal: The Steam House Chronicles

My mouth fell open with the recognition.

Swamp Lantern Woman had been taken over by a traveling spirit.

Her usual pale countenance took on a shimmering blue-green dancing magenta.

She declared pointedly:

Ahhh…this land is fertile; sooo fertile.

It is fertile because it feeds from below.

It sucks the spirit out of everyone.

This is why everyone ceaselessly tries to fill themselves.

There are hungry faces below the ground.

With a shift of light

and a rising cloud

the Mississippi night resumed its early Spring thrumming.

This is how I learned

even the moon

can become possessed

from time to time.


(c) 2019 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

sound: excerpt: Glimpses of the Ways Beyond / Toward Distant Hills / Slow Paths Beyond / Andrew Lahiff

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