Once, I stood on the banks of the Yukon
in the shadow of the Dalton Highway,
my father and I in holy silence
trying and failing to grasp the river’s
nature’s border, the northern edge
of the civilized world.
Beyond, the Brooks Range
and the interior.
Today, I ate frozen lamb vindaloo
from Trader Joe’s.
The first bite was undercooked,
requiring another minute in the microwave.
About the Author
A disciple of the experimental humanities and freelance historian, Matthew Dischner’s writings mix his passion for poetry, deep historical knowledge, and obsession with the natural world. A graduate of NYU’s recently transformed Draper Program, Matthew splits his time between the Virginia wine industry and working as a tutor and college admissions coach. You can read his other works at http://indulgencezine.com.