David Holper

Let the waters of the Klamath be released. Let the walls of the four hydroelectric dams be blasted apart, ripped down    to bedrock, concrete and rebar pulverized so only the scars will testify to what once spoiled the river. Let the rains come and wash away the remains— the silt, the pesticides, the cyanobacteria —all […]

Not bothering with resolutions, I celebrate the New Year by hiking. I start with the hills in the park nearby, legs burning from doing nothing all fall, all year. Days later I hike out to Headwaters, find myself soaked in sweat and struggling to catch my breath trudging up the two-mile hill above three-mile bridge. […]

After the great silence, we come to the church of blessing. On this sunny Sunday on the plaza, we stream onto the sidewalks quiet and contrite. We listen to the wisdom of the farmers as they tell us of the past year—how much fell sick and died—how much had to be pruned back and burned, […]

“The only thing of value is the thing you cannot say.” Wittgenstein At King Salmon on that beautiful Sunday, my father-in-law praises the day: the sun walks across the wavetops on Humboldt Bay, three pelicans wing north, cumulonimbus puff themselves up, holding back the land. Looking out across the water to where the jetties nearly […]

Broken is the black body Broken its name Broken its fine bones, its dark flesh Broken the soul into which we peer (blood pooling, unmoving over whom some badged bully looms) Broken the spirit incarcerated emasculated forgotten Broken the family without this ______: (blank) ever absent: Broken the neighborhood, the barred and shattered windows the […]

You know this story: in the news they are reporting that when the old lady died they found 100 cats in her house – all well fed, strays, every one, living in the lap of luxury. Don’t be jealous, if in her will she left her millions to the mangy lot of them. Perhaps you […]

Much as despair seems the only dance move left, the Klamath will not die, no matter how much of it irrigators divert to the valley, no matter if they fail to tear down the dams   to flush away the blue green algae and the pesticides, no matter if the last remaining coho and the […]

In the morning rush at the coffee shop, I flew in behind a woman with a Shakespeare tattoo: his famous face engraved on her right bicep. Only, this version was lined with Maori tattoos, so the upstart crow looked fiercer than usual. It was a beautiful cross pollination of memes, and for the briefest of […]