Returning

Upstream they come:

the lamprey,

the shad,

the salmon.

 

Upstream they come

in late springtime.

 

Upstream, on waters racing

above an ocean –

snowmelt warming –

 

As if knowing

the imperative of love.

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
For more, click here.

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House Guests

1.

Made love, and made love.

Sweet wine, candlelight twilight.

Mattress on the floor.

2.

“Don’t you have any games? Even a deck of cards?”

This time, I carry my own.

 

“You’re getting upset!” To him.

“You’re changing the rules!” He replies.

 

Look, all my Middle Eastern friends

cheat at cards, expecting everyone else

to venture the same – it’s just part of their game.

Cheating, eh? Maybe.

 

Wow! You’ve really read all these books?

I said, hoping to open his secret pages.

 

“So I’m going to a baby shower

you’ll never guess who for.”

Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson.
To read more, simply click here.

Mountain laurel.

Memo to self: It’s time to go back

We visited Lowell, Massachusetts, last summer and toured the national park that preserved its historic mills and canals. It was a delightful day that also included some first-class cheap eats – the Viet Thai restaurant and Sowy’s Hispanic bakery, both on Merrimack Street near City Hall are delightful.

If you’ve been wondering about the location of the photos accompanying the Big Inca postings the past month and a half, they’re mostly from that outing. I could have shot much, much more if I weren’t trying to observe things through my own eyes first.

Our highlight was a boat tour that took us through a working canal lock, raising us to the level of the Merrimack River on the other side of the gate. That leisurely route took us out on the river above the dam and falls and then back to downtown – a 90-minute excursion in all. Think of it as an American industrial Venice.

This time we intend to hit a couple of museums that aren’t part of the park – including the National Textiles Museum, which houses many of the famed calicos made in our own city, and the streetcar museum (after all, the streetcar is also a legendary sandwich in my newest novel, What’s Left.)

Another draw, if you’re interested, is the huge folk festival every summer. And there’s always the Jack Kerouac trail for devoted readers.

Now, to view the trip though the canal lock, just click on the photos for the big view.

Big Inca

To: The Readers

From: The Author

Date: May 31

After two years of meandering fairly placidly – like the river through yrUBbury, for that matter – the dark clouds have gathered. The river’s about to rise, in effect, in a turbulent flood that threatens to sweep everyone and everything over the dam. To follow the gory twists of the third and final year, you really must turn to the ebook itelf.

But if that’s not enough, just think – it leads Bill to one of my favorite romances yet.

And remember, like all dystopia, it’s free.

~*~

For the full story, click here: BIG INCA.

Big Inca

To: The Boss

From: Bill

Date: May 30 

Mona’s latest letter ended, KEEP IN TOUCH.

Of course, she hasn’t.

The Celts have set sail, bound for Paul’s sister’s. They decided she’ll marry Clancy. It seems to be the only way to cheer him.

I’ve moved into Hilda’s old apartment.

Reading piles up around my bed.

The damn cat, Whipply Sniplash, just jumped out Hilda’s window and ran away. How dumb!

Away, away. They’re all getting away. Maybe just for the summer. Maybe forever.

All I have are these leftover references. Or leftover romances.

And the whole damn mill town to manage.

Be serious, neighbors.

Remember, there’s more than one way of paying your dues. You must be prepared. Learn how to fix a flat tire. Keep in touch.

~*~

For the full story, click here: BIG INCA.

This could have been something Bill was encountering.

Big Inca

To: Bill

From: The Boss

Date: May 27

Why, there’s a flood of new cash flowing through town, and the mayor can’t find a better way to tap into it? What a little pig-fricker! We’ll show him, then.

Corruption, even if it’s only bribery, is a disease. Once it takes root, it just keeps getting worse. It takes courage to get rid of it. Better just to nip it in the bud.

~*~

All of the story continues by CLICKING HERE.