Out of the sun dried mud

A river once fluid, now punching out the mud,
A sluggy pulse; a knotweed bloated,
Bedded on that gray mud compost heap,
Pig cloud slowly, grunting a storm—
Flickering lightning to a shape.
Sloppy with rain, douses the bowel-pulse
Of a river head that pumps to a sea;

In a mile, in a heat, mud stubborn, sunk in
A clog, mire-smirched in a hoghood muddle;
Bog bottom suckling with a mouth slot—
Dolt ripe for a digesting,
These, these obstacles.
Yet, the water spawn is fertile, pours into
A muck funnel leashed to a salt wave,

Leaps inexorably, flies to a brine,
Thickens in a sea basin, cleaves to a shore;
Far from the dried mud stench—
Taut fiber from the onslaught of the sun,
Now free from the common clay;
It is the sea you hear in it.
Listen, it flows impetuously till the mud is stone.

Copyright © 09/29/18 lance sheridan®

Out of the mud

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15 comments on “Out of the sun dried mud

  1. tara caribou says:

    Oh my goodness. Lance. This is incredible work. I read it and read it and read it again. I absolutely love your choice of wording. The pig cloud. Damn. I wish I could think of amazing poems like this. I’m absolutely blown away.

  2. Barbara Kasey Smith says:

    Lance, as you already know, I’ve watched you grow as a poet & I must confess, you’ve become such an image builder and in a way to cause the mind to explore the imaginations it conjures up – know I love your craft! Barb;)

  3. Tara, very much appreciated. Thank you!

  4. You are such a close observer of nature, Lance. Even the landlocked can see the rising tide through your eyes, and smell the ocean.

  5. It’s like you don’t leave any stone unturned Lance. I loved all the descriptive details. Sloppy with rain! sloppy,,, genius!

  6. You could be writing about the Colorado River that once flowed into the Sea of Cortez where fishing villages prospered. Now the Colorado dries to mud flats in the Sonora Desert and those villages died with it. You could be writing about the Arkansas River, where in eastern Kansas my people lived. Now dammed in Colorado, the Arkansas is a small stream once lined by now dying cottonwoods. In fact you could be writing about any number of rivers where even one more dam would cause us to lose more to evaporation than we save. Bravo for not only seeing the problem but writing about it in a poem full of immense imagery that shows with clarity how much damage we have and are causing.

    • Barbara, you’re truly a wonderful inspiration- not only for your exceptional responses to my writing, but your support… and every time I read your pennings, they greatly motivate me.

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