To Live and Die in PA

What no one tells you is that you will have a cold ass after sitting on a stone fence.

I take umbrage at this.

A bloodhound’s forties, and my own.

Not even your sister-in-law is interested.

Some things once thought not to add up are now adding up.

For example: low-budget films of Pennsylvanians made between 1988 and 1992.

“Archaeology isn’t a science, it’s a vendetta.” – Mortimer Wheeler

It’s true, all archaeologists have vendettas and mine is also against another white dude with a beard.

Lying on our backs, heads touching.

Shadow passing over your neck this late in the day.

Not sure I could work the saxophone if you offered.

With the wind chill it’s more like I need a coat.

If Something Happens to that Bird I’m Going to be Upset

How do you feel about caves?

I really want to know.

You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

Dan will raise his right hand, slap it against my opposite hand, and say “Flesh collision!” without a hint of humor.

Beatrice walks up and down the aisles of the outlet store pausing only to tap her feet along with the occasional dated earworm.

Pianos fall out of windows all over town and there’s Nate trying to write a sonnet.

I decided to become a mooncusser, hoping the plunder would roll in.

All passion, no technique.

Gloom and wind just go together.

Nate Logan is the author of Inside the Golden Days of Missing You (Magic Helicopter Press, 2019). He teaches at Marian University.