High Horse

THE ELECTRICIAN OF LOVELY HUNGER 


The electrician 
of lovely hunger 
walks his three-legged dog 
thru the dark aisles 
of azure’s 
false promise, 
its appearance, serene, one 
of a many cold 
echoes. Saint 
of Late Causes, such as 
too much moon 
you no longer wish 
to know, he 
reopens the amphitheater. 
Turns to hear 
cries of torn 
playbills fly out 
of the furnace. 
Fractions 
of a prior charge 
printed on the back of the flame 
touch like tiny palm 
the fall gathering 
at his missing umbrella. 




OCTOBER COOKOUT 


The air smells like 
freshly minted baseball cards 

There’s a 1mph wind 
out of the gap in God’s teeth 

The water fountains 
have all been pH-balanced 

Mansion Hill Quartet 
plays Vivaldi 
better than you’ve ever heard 

& the terraces ring 
with October cookout’s chimes 
of clamouring children 

Off-the-clock mimes 
marvel at their hands 

Cantabile grassblades 
lute the just-rained soil 

All the years 
you’ve lived here 
sun this one 
moment

& array 
into the place 
you come back to 
in the music 

The music 
you will hear 
tomorrow 
when you see her 




PRELIMINARY READINGS ON THE MOUNT 


Looking across the papillary ridges 
playing a Foggy Mountain Stomp 
there is something likable but indistinct just over the hill 
waiting for the rain to come  
sliding down the muddy slope that’s lettered rangily. 

Shame of sentiment led me astray, led me to myself, 
to where I immediately back out arms waving & telling 
everyone there’s a bear at the end of that trail. 

The mood of aporia faded 
like the chimney swifts inside me 
back into wherever they came from come nightfall, 
& unfortunately I feel I’ve no recourse 
but to keep my wagon circling the direct center of all things. 

The bear & I stand there approvingly.

Evan Thomas is a poet who lives and works in southern Ohio. His first full-length collection, Strangers, won the Prize Americana for Poetry in 2024 and was published in the spring of 2025.