Remnants of a Hallucination to Resolve Eternal Solitude

By J. Michael Nabity

These poems and shorts stories are the manifestations of a young man as he transitions from childhood to early adulthood.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Michael Nabity
• Release date: Oct 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370236565

Book preview

Be God Forever

earned by chance we dreamt into being,

with every breath I’ve said my name,

in simultaneous visions pregnant with truth,

forever performing a composition,

where something incredible

is always happening,

that allows for the moment of us

to be God forever

A Resurrection in the Blessed Land

On a gravel road north of town, the dog stopped howling. A white haze hung motionless from a grey sky that crystallized in a flurry of snow. Bare Oak trees rose above thick Evergreens that blocked the wind between acres rowed with knee-high stocks of picked corn. Radio static faded in and out of Sunday football play by play. My legs were tired, it felt good to sit after a morning of walking the brush without seeing a bird. I took a deep breath and sunk into the passenger seat, my hand ready on the grip of my shotgun, the action broke open over my thigh. I lay my head against the window and tried not to fall asleep.

How are you holding up? my Dad asked over the static. Ok, I mumbled.

Let’s walk this quarter section then head into town for a burger.

Sounds good, I perked up.

I had walked these fields before but this was my first time carrying a gun. My dad showed me what shells I would need as we loaded up the car; a smaller shot for the narrow choke of the right barrel, and a larger shot for the wide choke of the left. Keep the smaller shot on the right side of your vest and the larger ones in the left pocket so you don’t forget which barrel to put them in. He instructed, then reminded, this gun only has one trigger, so you have to flip the trigger switch to one side or the other to know which barrel will shoot first. He flipped the switch back and forth with his thumb to demonstrate, right now it’s set to fire the first shot out of the right side. He looked at me for confirmation. I kept my focus on his thumb and nodded my head. He continued with a steady voice, hold the gun with two hands when you’re walking, right hand on the grip and the left hand up the fore stock… always have the safety on unless you’re shooting… let the bird get up high enough above the brush so the spread doesn’t hit a dog… don’t shoot in the direction of any houses or people… empty the shells and open the action when you’re not in the field… can you remember all that? he asked when he had finished. Got it, I nodded again, this time looking him in the eye.

He taught me to shoot with a BB gun when I was 6 and a pellet gun by 9, and for my eleventh birthday he handed me down his 20 gauge shotgun. One of his first side by sides. He grew up hunting with his Dad on the family farm that my Great Grandfather settled before the depression. They’d start walking when the sun came up in the morning and hunt all day until it was time for dinner. He detasseled there in the summer as a child, and helped by milking the cows and feeding the livestock. By the age of 14 he was driving a tractor for planting and haying. His cousins farmed the land with two row equipment and rotated the crops with alfalfa and soy beans to nurture the soil without fertilizer. The crops provided food and cover for pheasants and other game; along with the bluestem, switchgrass, and broam that grew in the areas that couldn’t be plowed.

After the harvest in the fall he’d go out on the weekends to hunt and learn from his cousins how to train a dog to work the field laterally, close to the handler, and corner at the end of the line of gunners so