“Volcanic Drift” and Two Poems

Volcanic Drift

by Liam Wilson


Swinomish*

by Terry Dawson

 

hollow like the heavy masks I carve
the burnt out trailer of the Loomis boys


sits like a totem of desperation
on the edge of the reservation


always drunk in their rusting pickup
parked somewhere different every day


they betray our heritage and now their mother
has no place to live  shit happens: their mantra


so I gouge into this fragrant cedar and try
to dig us all out of our long stupor 


on this spit of land set apart like a wound
as the brackish waters burn against us


the sea has carved out this slough in the
corner of the Northwest as an invitation


to receive our brother salmon along with
the abundant blackberries


I hear the beating drum that marches
us all out into the Pacific to feel again grace


as we pull in the nets of silver flanks
as we withdraw our hands from the thorn bushes


they are rope-burned and pregnant with juicy drupelets
sometimes pierced to remind us of the cost


our young men have forgotten this   they have
forgotten who they are and so I carve these reminders:


wolf, raven, whale, eagle, bear
these are our people too; when then I come back


into this world sheme **, I will know how to fill 
the hollowness within me

* one of the Coast Salish tribes

** Coast Salish for white settler, literally "the color of a drowned person"


en el craneo abierto de la catedral

by Terry Dawson

 
 
 

in the open skull of the cathedral
I now spend my days — this building 
where once sat the mind of la communidad


the earthquakes changed all that:
the first one shook these walls apart
the second, la revolucion, hollowed out


the power of the church in Nicaragua —
occurring seven years apart, both
rocking the heart of Managua, mi ciudad


with no jobs and little food, it’s a place to
go; I’m not alone; otras hombres like me 
climb through the skeletal steel


high above the chancel altar, we can see 
through the crumbled wall to the baptistery 
where the concrete fount lay prone


like a fallen soldier but none of us have
joined the war; we hide in this place that once 
gave us comfort; we are neither


Sandinista or Contra we are all bored
and afraid as we join again the rubble 
en el craneo abierto de la catedral


though I'll die before la lucha, the struggle, 
resolves like so many other young men 
in this young pais, I remain


in the gaze of an American, who, startled by the 
rumble above, stared up    now and then he 
returns me to the skull, where my eyes


fall upon his like a spectral question

Terry Dawson & Liam Wilson

Terry Dawson, a Presbyterian minister who served congregations for over two decades and as a member of the adjunct faculty of San Francisco Theological Seminary, resides in Austin, Texas. There he performs with the multicultural poetry, jazz and live painting collective, Five Voizz Brush, and writes a guest column for the Austin American Statesman. His book, "the after: poems only a planet could love", published by Poets' Choice came out in the spring of 2022. His poetry, essays and creative non-fiction have appeared in Red Fox Review, Horizons, di-verse-city anthology, Pigeonholes, Courtship of the Winds, Dash, the Texas Poetry Calendar, Ocotillo Review, Talking Writing, Equinox and the Bangalore Review. He received grand prize in the Garden of Poets competition of the Wingless Dreamer Anthology and second place in the Christina Surgeyevna competition of the Austin International Poetry Festival. He was a finalist in both the Chase Going Woodhouse and the Julia Darling poetry competitions and was twice long-listed for the Fish Anthology Prize. He has served as co-chair as well principle writer and editor for the Jazz at St. James music festival for the past five years and has been interviewed and read from his work on KUT and KUTX radio, Austin, New York Parrot TV and the "Diverse Voices Book Review" podcast.

Liam Wilson will graduate from the University of Colorado with a degree in Media Studies and Media Production in the Spring 2022. His "Volcanic Drift" comes from his collection of acrylic pour paintings on canvas and wood produced in his studio in Austin, Texas during the pandemic lockdown of 2020. His work has appeared in Liminal Spaces literary magazine and served as the cover for the book “the after: poems only a planet could love” published by Poets' Choice and is forthcoming in Unlimited Lit and Moon Shadow Sanctuary Press online journals.  You can find more of his work at @bouringpaintings

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