The Landing

Nodding off with the river nomads, waking them before twilight with down-come discoursing on Muddy’s simmering thrash

Inexplicable stirring opposite outline’d bank as she savagely deepens Intermittently-corporeal, Bitter-ramp postulate, Ever-tumbling vertigate, Degenerate with a fountain pen and I catch a whiff of past Twain-toddling academic Mark-fetishing (Polishing half-desks with shaving cream) and I give a little tug on the knot that’s tethered me to the quaint little village; The outpost of lamplight on a bend of the widening Missouri

Graceful pressure elliptically to my lips

My hand smalled behind you to fit, us as if