Glory Be to Mullet-Headed Thunder Gods, Gerald Yelle (March 2026)

Glory Be to Mullet-Headed Thunder Gods

The lines were down but that didn’t stop me. 
I called a hundred times and no one 
answered. I reached out to the gospel singer 
who reached out to the proud boys who said
they were fed up and ready for revolution. 
She said people get hurt in revolutions. 
They didn’t care. They were tried and found 
guilty of their ancestors’ crimes so why 
not own it. We’d all be hurting soon. 
The wind whistled through its missing teeth. 
It whistled in the undergrowth. Misled us 
with its ninety days of summer. We knew 
it wouldn’t last –though we never 
thought we’d be hanging on the margins. 
Did we think they wouldn’t find us?
I was ankle-deep in chloroplast hanging on
the margins pretending I was Huck 
Finn’s dog, digging for a bone I didn’t bury.