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Lorna Rose: Surviving the Rush

September 9, 2022 by PBQ Leave a Comment

No music plays in 

the general store in Circle, Alaska,

which is full of mukluks and 

 

Wonder Bread. 

 

Villagers fish the Yukon, 

memorize river rise, 

bet on 

 

breakup. 

 

Long ago miners arrived from Outside

to sift, chip 

rip fortunes

 

from earth. 

 

Stilts were drilled into permafrost and

structures were imposed and 

all bustle and 

 

rage. 

 

Then claims fell dry and 

no patience and Circle started to

 

wither.

 

The locals 

picked up pieces of buildings, tried to 

heal the 

 

pock-marked ground. 

 

Today a tourist’s crisp dollar might 

mean something, 

except the locals would have to tolerate 

 

the perfumey tourist. 

 

Villagers fish the Yukon, 

memorize river rise, 

bet on breakup. The soil smells of 

 

fool’s gold and blood

Filed Under: Issue 103, Poetry, Poetry 103 Tagged With: lorna rose

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