Craigslist Ad: I have lost my mojo (Orma) "Lost my mojo need someone who can help me find it" Somewhere between Anhedonia and Ataraxy we drive east on the turnpike in torrential downpour, passing old man in rusted sedan with driver's window down completely. Is it broken, or is he just looking to feel something? Still raining in Rainelle, West Virginia, then we outrun the storm passing Sam Black Church, town named after church named after 19th century Methodist preacher. Miles and hours pass by, rain slows to a drizzle, we turn north on 219 past signs reading: "Trump 2024" "Jesus Saved Me!" and $1.00 Hot Dog!" past Pleasant Green M.E. old white church where former slaves lie buried in a graveyard the forest is busy reclaiming. On the fence of a small pasture, sign in neat letters declares "My Name is Rocket" and a small white pony, totem of equanimity grazes on wet grass looking unperturbed by the sheer velocity with which he hurtles through space.
From the 2022 chapbook “My CO(r)VID Years” by James Cochran
James Cochran is a proudly Appalachian writer, transplanted from the soil of Southeastern Ohio to the hilly streets of Charleston, West Virginia. He embraces the practice of mindfulness through writing, and writing through mindfulness, and enjoys listening to the neighbor’s wind chimes.
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ALSO BY JAMES COCHRAN
POETICS: 3 Poems by James Cochran: July 1, 2022: ‘She says Jesus / has spoken to her, told her not to drink coffee / or Redbull, that black tea is okay. / I feel jealous of such direct communication / with a higher power, then wonder if I would / stop drinking coffee if Jesus told me to …’
READINGS: Three from “Corona Time Capsule”: September 10, 2021: ‘Feed Them on Peaches,’ ‘Grass Fire,’ and ‘¡Ya Basta!’ — three excerpts of poetry and prose from poet James Cochran’s forthcoming book “Corona Time Capsule.”
POEM: “Haymaking”: February 20, 2021: We cut, rake, and bale / till the sun goes down and the dew settles on the fields, / then start again next morning once the dew burns off …
