Something went wrong beside the dry creek.
A late winter sky reborn in its own image.
The neighbor's radio buzz, the four-lane drone,
Etcetera. Hallelujah. I have my soul pressed up
Against the cracked living room window,
Seeking out that shaggy buffalo vibe.
I've made friends here in the temporal world.
I've heard ghosts down inside the stereo.
The past is not your friend, somebody sang,
The future not your enemy. And my hair
And my fingernails of late have grown longer.
There's a tang of prairie upon my tongue.
Harold Whit Williams is guitarist for the critically acclaimed rock band Cotton Mather, and he releases lo-fi home recordings as Daily Worker. He is a 2018 and 2020 Pushcart Prize Nominee, and also recipient of the 2014 Mississippi Review Poetry Prize. His collection Backmasking was winner of the 2013 Robert Phillips Poetry Chapbook Prize from Texas Review Press, and his latest, My Heavens, is available from FutureCycle Press. He lives in Austin, Texas.