The smoke goes up the way a rotting log goes out–away
Serpentine in air and not just light but hot
And heavy enough to come back down and dapple black
Amid the greens and wood the smoke is there to say:
I am the moment of oxygen and carbon
I have tasted of the choice and action
Plant to paper in which plant to flame
Cash crops made a life more bituminous
For a continent who found the middle
The harsh savoring smoke draws out
And the feet, the fish, the climb, the breath, and the brother draw in
Smoke (after Thoreau)
by Benjamin Ginzky
by Benjamin Ginzky
Works by Joseph Dole, incarcerated artist and activist
by Joseph Dole
Art by incarcerated writer and artist Joseph Dole, who is serving a life sentence at Stateville Correctional Center.
Tomatoes in East Palestine
Correspondence from Rob Two-Hawks, an East Palestine resident writing to Julia Rock on the massive train derailment: "Yes, the fish, people and other things are very unhappy. Nevertheless, I'll find a way to grow some of the Finest Damn Tomatoes on Earth here."
