Poetry by Jason Baldinger

               William Clifford CC



peter laughner's ghost (for john burroughs)

it begins and ends 
with chicken paprikash
touching elbows 
with strangers, sharing 
tables in this tiny diner 

the old lady is waiting 
for her friend after church 
before going to take care 
of her mother, like pittsburgh 
the women of cleveland 
are tough gnarl blizzards 
howling across this 
post industrial landscape 

they still cough mill smoke 
carry traditions, novenas
I have my traditions too 
and we're all just getting by 

ill be here again 
waiting to get snowed in 
on van gogh's birthday 
from white out to motel 
I float like peter laughner's ghost 

Ill take snow road as far 
as it will leave me 
george avenue will always be sacred

john, shelley and the dogs
up into the wee hours 
with an internet jukebox 
and stories of our appalachian 
lives, the marks it's left 
on our souls 

we practice moderation 
as we get older 
still, as americans 
we feel we are imbued 
with this strange light 

this morning, light 
sits in the smoke 
the vapor of exhaust 
we are hungry for stories 

it begins and ends 
with chicken paprikash 
our memories already fading

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Jason Baldinger is bored with bios. He’s from Pittsburgh and misses roaming around the country writing poems. His newest book is A Threadbare Universe (Kung Fu Treachery Press) with The Afterlife is A Hangover (Stubborn Mule Press) coming soon. His work has been published widely across print journals and online. You can hear him read his work on Bandcamp and on lp’s by the bands The Gotobeds and Theremonster.