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Category: Tucson

POEM: Oasis

Oasis

It’s such a cliché even Looney Tunes covered it:
the desperate man in the desert, crawling toward water.
In the cartoon he usually dives into the pond
to find only sand where he sought salvation.
Me, I’ll be driving a minivan to the water’s edge,
and I’m fairly certain it’s actually there. At least
as certain as we can be of anything in these times.
At some point you have to ask yourself why you move.
What possible promise could await over the horizon?
Does forty degrees of longitude matter that much?
I’ll be the judge of that, says the little voice in my head.
I don’t trust that voice any further than I could throw it,
which is no distance at all if past is any kind of prologue.
“Go east, middle-aged man” doesn’t have the same ring to it
as the other, more famous phrase, but what the hell.
YOLO and whatnot. The tank is full, the nose is pointed
toward the rising sun. I have nothing to lose but my chains.
And probably some engine parts I can’t identify.
Save me a spot on the dunes.

/ / /

Jason Crane
25 October 2020
Tucson, AZ

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POEM: 40 days & 40 nights

40 days & 40 nights

‘e’s nuts I tells ya
carries two unloaded 6-
shooters everywhere ‘e goes
wears spurs (like an old western
gunslinger) on his New Balance 410s
why just the other day I saw ‘im
down to the Circle K
juggling 3 Fruit Punch Gatorades
(mask & gloves on the whole time)
until the manager come out
from the little room in the back
said ‘e had to get going or
the cops’d be called
‘e left but not before putting
2 of the Gatorades back neatly
in the cooler
we have to have rules, ‘e said
& buying the other one
‘e unscrewed the cap, stepped
through the door into the desert sun
spilled a little in the parking lot & said
pouring one out for my home

/ / /

Jason Crane
10 May 2020
Tucson, AZ

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POEM: Friday afternoon, outside our apartment

Friday afternoon, outside our apartment

little guy:
fins on helmet
training wheels

at a certain age
those’ll get you
where you need to go

old guy:
baseball cap
walker

at a certain age
there’s no hurry
to get there

/ / /

Jason Crane
17 April 2020
Tucson AZ

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POEM: might as well jump

might as well jump

red to dead, red to donor
black to donor, black to metal
a rare cold rain beating down
turn the key; nothing
he cleans pools, he says, drenched
turn it again; nothing
the Catholic in me apologizes
maybe if I put this here instead?
turn the key; life!
the rain, if anything, strengthens

/ / /

Jason Crane
18 March 2020
Tucson, AZ

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