Action Against Fracking Public Lands
Isaiah Yonah Back-Gaal and Kurt David
Ohio Writers
Oil and Gas Commission, Nov. 2023
The organizers call themselves the Olds.
Jenny remembers the Cuyahoga’s
first burn. I can hardly count the rings
on Jess’s long fingers. Against the forest green
of Dollar Tree’s billboard,
we recognize each other and stuff
our pockets, hand
the guard our state
IDs. The Ohio Department of Natural
Resources complex advertises
a small glossy herd of what used
to be 30 million bison
grazing in a park outside the city.
The call to action is the lease.
The signal is a woman cupping her mouth,
the Monopoly Man flipping over her bag
of paper and coins in front of five men
protected by the state’s monopoly
on violence. On violence
they are speechless but promise
to pause the drilling
on behalf of hunters. There are no deer
at the meeting. There is our shouting.
There is the great unfurling of a temporary flag
like wind through an empty mine.
Our, our, our, we shout, summoning
the valley’s horned and restless
stampede, something loud
and bloody enough to make
an unpoisoned watershed
worth what it’s worth.
Jenny remembers the Cuyahoga’s
first burn. I can hardly count the rings
on Jess’s long fingers. Against the forest green
of Dollar Tree’s billboard,
we recognize each other and stuff
our pockets, hand
the guard our state
IDs. The Ohio Department of Natural
Resources complex advertises
a small glossy herd of what used
to be 30 million bison
grazing in a park outside the city.
The call to action is the lease.
The signal is a woman cupping her mouth,
the Monopoly Man flipping over her bag
of paper and coins in front of five men
protected by the state’s monopoly
on violence. On violence
they are speechless but promise
to pause the drilling
on behalf of hunters. There are no deer
at the meeting. There is our shouting.
There is the great unfurling of a temporary flag
like wind through an empty mine.
Our, our, our, we shout, summoning
the valley’s horned and restless
stampede, something loud
and bloody enough to make
an unpoisoned watershed
worth what it’s worth.
Isaiah Yonah Back-Gaal (he/they) and Kurt David (he/him) are queer bosom buddies who met in Columbus, OH, where they studied creative writing, edited The Journal, and organized together. Their collaborative poems have appeared, or soon will, in New Delta Review, poetry.onl, and TIMBER. For more, visit kurt-david.com and isaiahbackgaal.com.
Social Media
@isaiahbackgaal
@krtdvdwrtr
Social Media
@isaiahbackgaal
@krtdvdwrtr
