The Meddling

 The Meddling

They'd have us believe
the fracturing of Britain
isn't of their hand...

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Ember

 Ember 

A spark may remain
Where a fire once burned proudly
Now barely glowing. 

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Notice and Remember

Notice and Remember

The farce continues,
but people are waking up.
Our time is coming. 

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Rage

Rage

They build their bunkers
to escape the people's wrath,
but they shall reap it...

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Just Under

Just Under

Seven in the bank,
I put six in the gas tank,
and thank Mercury.

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Self Talk

Self Talk

Bite back the pain, son. 
Don't let the bastards see tears,
lest they make it worse.

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Typical

Typical

God awful writing, 
accusations for the views...
so goddamned fatigued...

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Deja vu

 Deja vu

In goes the needle
So they can collect my blood
And offer pennies. 

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Social

 Social

Pizza and ice cream,
Seeing old faces and new, 
Some don't seem to care. 

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

3 days

 3 days

A much needed break
That will be used to work hard
On my other tasks...

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Home

Home

Racing the sun west, 
Speeding and yet still losing 
Trying to get home. 

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Hum

 Hum

With each passing mile, 
Driving away from the sun, 
Exhaustion creeps in

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Calculating

Calculating 

Square grid, nine by nine,
Central goal upheld by eight,
Might as well try it...

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Dirt

Dirt 

Along the sidewalk, 

Outside of the hospital, 

We played construction. 

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Renewed

Renewed

In my sleep I dreamt
the daydream I used to have...
Maybe it's a sign!

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved

Peace

Peace

Tucked back in the woods, 
I stare at quiet waters
No worry, no care.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8vcRQYb/

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Steady

Steady 

Hold the Fly swatter
Walk slowly up to the wall, 
And catch it off guard!

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Auspicious

Auspicious 

A bloody red hue,
Silver flirting at the edge,
Stars dim for the show.

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved 

Flock Hunter

 Flock Hunter

1

Graham hated bear-crawls back when he was playing football. Almost as much as he hated burpees. Not these “influencer” burpees that have grown popular, but the real ones. The ones that had you bouncing from foot to foot as fast as you could until the coach blew his whistle, and you dropped to the ground pushed yourself back up and started again. Sometimes he would wait for a bit before blowing the whistle, and sometimes he would blow it the second you were back on your feet, or even halfway to your feet.  All the while, wearing full equipment.

Those burpees were exhausting.

Bear-crawls on the other hand were hell in their own right. From one endzone to the next, full equipment, and God help you if Coach thought he saw your knee hit the green. Coach demanded discipline and seemed to know when you were holding back. If anyone went slower than their previous time, they had to start over with the rest of the team doing burpees until you were done.

No one held back, and found that even in this singular activity, it was in the best interest of everyone to go full tilt.

Today, however, Graham was bear-crawling through the mud slowly. It struck him as ironic that the burning in his forearms and quads seemed to hit him much faster at this rate than when he used to go fast down the field.

Slow and steady was the pace today, however. Soybeans only gave so much cover, and even with a ghillie suit, if he moved too fast it would draw attention.

No, he had to move nice and slow and he had to get as close as possible while doing it.

He was a good shot, but there were too many variables to take a chance. He had to get close enough to those damned things to nail them without hitting any of the cars going by.

His first target sat a mere 10 yards away up the embankment right next to the highway, perched on its pole, taunting everyone driving by.

Its brother sat on its own pole about 60 yards further down the highway on the other side.

He slowly brought the rifle up, and aimed at the camera facing the west first, and without firing, he slowly lined up the next shot. He aimed at one and then the other, and repeated the motion slow and steady at first, and then faster. He tried to get it the bead lined up from one shot to the next as smoothly and as quickly as possible to avoid delay in getting out of there.

When he felt comfortable enough, he took aim at the West facing camera and listened to the hum of the traffic. When there was a relative lull, he squeezed the trigger.

There was a small burst of glass, plastic and wires at the crack of his rifle.
‘One bird down,’ he thought.

He swung the rifle to the closest camera.

Squeeze. Crack. Small burst of components.

“Ha!” He shouted out to the audience of passing cars and soy beans.

He pulled the rifle back in, sliding it back across his back as securely as possible under the ghillie and turned around. His bear crawl this time was a little more rapid, but still slow enough to not draw attention to him.

He heard the sirens just as he hit the tree line. Finally rising to his feet in the protective shadows of the trees, he pulled out a small pair of binoculars and looked out to the police cars now inspecting his handiwork.

They were all just looking at the ruined camera posts and looking out at the fields. He laughed again and moved further into the trees to where his dirt bike awaited.

Another successful hunt, and another two birds down, making six total this month. It was going to get harder the more he hunted, but like all true Hoosier men, he looked forward to the challenge.

Urban Garden

Urban Garden

Chalk on the driveway, 
Colorful flowers and fruits, 
A shame the rain comes. 

© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved