missoula ain't a big place
even during rush hour
if you carry a pizza
across the city, no one
will notice except the big
white m landscaped
on the mountain
a chill in the air
stays into may
the road over lolo pass clear
but one step beyond
everything disappears
this winter still untamed
motel door open
east broadway
before tourist season
all evening hush
if I had a pistol
I may shoot the clock
the oldest bars in montana
don't have jukeboxes or tvs
the old west nudes
the remington's as rockwell
slowly dying out
another lie of the true west
this hobo stacks his pack
against the wall
pays in change for moose drool
thunders his story
he is north wind along the rails
teeth chattering on the spine
of the canadian rockies
heading for a springtime
in alaska that's forty below
but he ain't jack black
this ain't you can't win
even if the sentiment is true
no one wants to hear
that boxcar life
no one wants to hear
hallelujah I'm harry mcclintock
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Jason Baldinger was recently told he looks like a cross between a lumberjack and a genie. He’s also been told he’s not from Pittsburgh, but actually is the physical manifestation of Pittsburgh. Although unsure of either, he does love wandering the country writing poems. His newest books include: A Threadbare Universe (Kung Fu Treachery Press), The Afterlife is a Hangover (Stubborn Mule Press) and A History of Backroads Misplaced: Selected Poems 2010-2020 (Kung Fu Treachery). He also has a forthcoming book with James Benger called This Still Life. His work has been widely across print journals and online. You can hear him read his work on Bandcamp and on lp’s by The Gotobeds and Theremonster.
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