Disclaimer: not all community members are a part of this odd movement. No particular person is indicated.
River Run
Abruptly, without a plan, he breaks away
from synchronized hounding by
red and black vehicles, police cars, ambulances
and unmarked vans at every turn;
from pink-shirted strangers loudly mimicking
his private thoughts; and uncanny
internet ads and radio songs.
He saunters, jogs, then dashes
down to the river path, yearning
for a moment of peace.
As he traces the river’s curves
he feels her pulse ferrying him
past the packs of service trucks,
jeering pedestrians, and brain-tampered
neighbors; out-of-range of the microwave
jolts, aerosol dosing and AI programs.
He hears the river chanting, never mind,
never mind, never mind.
The man drops into a small, grassy dip.
Listening, he begins to breathe again
the way he used to, with effortless focus.
He digs out a pencil and crumpled receipt
to jot some phrases for a poem.
He has eight minutes until the lull
is cracked by a boisterous hoard
of kayakers clamoring by
as a low plane buzzes over,
two indistrinctly uniformed walkers
march past and back again, twice,
and sirens and chem-trails rip through the sky,
demanding his reconnection.
But they are too late.
The timeless river now paces his brain,
dipping beneath bridges, around buildings,
bypassing fleeting eyes and ears systems.
She endlessly messages, never mind, never mind,
never mind, never mind.
Nourished by deep river silt,
rugged willows anchor the bank,
dwarfing the fractured sky.
