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.
High Horse 