MATT WILLIAMS’ TWO RIVERS

There are deaths of me all over.

Loping south down an abandoned dirt road, full of canine swagger.

Engineered by the faded, golden dust of the place, built out of countless whirlwinds, every one of them spinning, howling at the black and mad thunderclouds rolling across an endless blanket of constellations, swallowing every star, spitting out their lightning bones.

A whole body howling, electric as the storm come to try and wash it out.

Swimming through the muddy bloodstreams of flatland rivers, barreling forward, bursting past living fossils and channel cats, as elms dip their branches, cave into the water, disintegrate.

Swimming through the wreckage alongside great dragons, scales purple as a black eye, and white as sun-bleached teeth, tongues shining yellow like the full sturgeon moon.

As I swim through the two rivers of dream and memory, these are some of the scenes that blossom endlessly upon their banks. They are heavy with love and fear, desire and sorrow, and I overflow with gratitude for the spirits that inhabit them.

Yours, in broken time, Matt Williams

Excerpts from the soon-to-be-published book called Two Rivers by by Matt Williams.

Matt Williams is an emerging artist, born and raised on the Canadian Prairies in Winnipeg, beside the Assiniboine River. His writing and photography has been published in National Geographic, VICE, The FADER, The Globe and Mail, The A.V. Club, NOW Magazine, and numerous other outlets. He now calls Halifax home.

mattgwilliams.com Ig:@koy.ote