Sugarcane Truck

An oldie I came across and updated recently, originally published years ago in what is now another belly-up forgotten print mag.

 

sugarcane truck

 

 

Something willed the wind to stillness,

silenced the outraged moon with a smokescreen

of sudden fog. So I was told. Nobody knows

that night after Christmas but him.

Was it east or west of the fast, slanted bridge?

On any other night it would have been a straight shot

home, between several miles of scorched fields,

through the slouching apathy of the winter oaks.

  

I’m blinking down at the sky, at the twinkling

glitter-glass that frosts my neck and knuckles,

contorted forward, open-throated.

Laughing in the splendor of lilacs, violets,

walls of wisteria, strange fragrance of purple-blue hills

of wildflowers, and the man is still screaming. The moon, forced

to listen and witness, infuses my friends with light,

lifts them up and into this meadow,

blue hoodies, fishing caps, dreamcatchers

 

                                                              

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I know something completely different had to be behind this...but some of this started reminding me of the field near the fence where the wreckage lay of Buddy Holly's plane that cold night in February of 1959...
They say the found Big Bopper a ways from the wreckage implying he had survived the initial impact
and crawled several feet....I am sure this goes in another direction...but it gave me goose bumps as
it drew me to that night...February 3rd...
the imagery rocks in this....and yes, those print mags...very rare to still have any around these days.
I have my copies and it is like looking at a print museum.
j.

[Seth Cason]

Now that you mention it, I can envision the scenario, and sort of imaginarily bilocate between the two. And damn I miss those printed, flesh-and-blood literary journals. I don't think they even published the 2021 Writer's Market, Poet's Market, etc. And thank you for the "imagery rocks" compliment. I just scored another rejection email and I need all the encouragement I can get before I shave my head, bury my laptop, and move to Nepal to become a monk.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I have felt like doing that before...except for the shaved head thingy....Writers market, way way way back around 1980...that publication helped me find places to send work to...had those good guidelines as to what different places liked.
But yes along with acceptances, many rejections.
I got one rejection that was hand written, which is usually nice, that just had one word on it..."Nope"

I didn't get over that one for a month.
j.

[Seth Cason]

Hey Jacob--
It's been several days but my computer finally let me the remaining 9/10ths of your above comment. Apparently, on this site my cursor refuses to cooperate with anything halfway down the screen. I cannot believe an editor "noped" you with his bare hands! I would have gone straight to my mother, now in retirement, who enjoys baking pound cakes, reading mysteries, and writing letter after eviscerating letter to our idiot state senators. But yeah, it was fun rummaging through those Writers' Market pages, but like so much else these days it's pretty much obsolete.

This brings me to a question I hope you can answer. Let's say I took a short breather from writing and publishing, like, maybe fifteen years.So now in a basic submission cover letter should I include the names of a few of these journals, impossible to find or prove, or just skip ahead to the swimsuit runway segment?

Seth

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Seth,
Yes, I would include those. After all, defunct or not, you WERE published in them and those are credits.

[Fran Marie]

The descriptions you
use here gives such
an eerie dark feeling
yet lightly lifting
to the light
with scents of lilac
and hues of purple
of passing beyond
Into that other realm
well done..thanks for
the friend request and
welcome to WC

[Chris Shaw]

You have a very distinctive style of writing Seth. An accident on a night when the weather turned hostile and as a result someone died. Or at least that's what it seems to me. The contrast between the moon witnessing and hearing the screams and the beauty of the violets, wisteria and lilacs and their fragrance really hit me. The imagery is top notch. First of yours I have read. Hello and welcome to WC.

Chris

[Seth Cason]

Hi Chris--
Thank you for the uplifting and respectful review. One thing that I love and find unique about this site is the specifics that reviewers will address. I didn't know what to expect when I signed up here, and, yes I was stunned and heartbroken when I realized there's no actual coffee or eye-candy baristas here, but upon deeper reflection, I suppose in a crazy way it makes sense. Thank you for the welcoming.

Seth

[Chris Shaw]

You are welcome. Have fun here.

[Seth Cason]

Hi Chris-- I just sent you a friend invite only to learn that you'd already sent one to me-- but I can't find it. I'm having all sorts of minuscule malfunctions. Could you please give it another try? Thanks
Seth

[Chris Shaw]

Of course Seth. Very happy to do so :)

[lightsong]

You live in your own world, yet You are connecting with everything You see, witness and feel, speak and paint them with your world's brush. after a death there is a re-brith and life, and this what I first feel here, the second verse speaks in a personal way, before the re-birth You need to pause, surrender, ponder then to have the power to be born again, and here You born again through your poetry, writing and expressing again with words, so that blossoming comes in the last verse at the end of what it seems a mind journey. your opening lines something I would want to have written. wonderful piece of deep pondering and reflections my friend.

[Seth Cason]

Your comment feels like a much-needed transcendental hug. Thank you, lightsong.

[lightsong]

just knock anytime You are in-need my friend :)