Skip to content →

Category: Tucson

haiku: 22 January 2021

watch cattle grazing
feel my heartbeat start to slow
: a morning lesson

///

22 January 2021
Catalina AZ

Leave a Comment

POEM: Revenge!

Revenge!

Mingus! Dolphy!
Elderly people doing yoga!
Park pavilions full of
downward dogs & the upper class.
The Buick owners realigning their chakras
before heading off to brunch.
Everyone has a dog or else no one does.
There’s ozone in the air but the sun is out.
Where’s the promised thunder?
The desert is a dirty liar.
The bass clarinet will have to do.

///

21 January 2021
Oro Valley, AZ

One Comment

POEM: Today was the last time

Today was the last time

I’ve learned that my shell is too fragile
to hold up under the weight
of what might have been.
Like the man said, you can’t go home again.
Had I known I’d be running so hard
I would have stayed in better shape.
And probably not worn Crocs.
I’ll leave this key on the counter.
It no longer unlocks anything.

///

19 January 2021
Tucson, AZ

Leave a Comment

haiku: 16 January 2021

sunshine, wild horses
“you’ll for sure poop in your van”
: Ironwood Forest

/ / /

16 January 2021
Ironwood Forest National Monument
Arizona

Leave a Comment

haiku: 15 January 2021

January sun
wild birds call in the distance
on a rock in space

/ / /

15 January 2021
Ironwood Forest National Monument
Arizona

Leave a Comment

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

Leave a Comment