It's 1966

Willie Mays in centerfield

Allen Ginsberg writing poems

My father driving his truck

I’m tossing the ball in the backyard

Or

Watching a silly sitcom

American soldiers dying in Vietnam

Or

Losing body parts

Lyndon Johnson on the phone in the Oval Office

Or

Lying about the war

Richard Nixon plotting his next run

The 49ers play at Kezar Stadium

Steve McQueen the coolest

Everyone loves the space program

Marijuana sales increasing everywhere

The Beatles put out a new album

Jack Kerouac still alive and writing 

Or

Drinking

J Edgar Hoover plotting against the New Left

Or

The Civil Rights Movement

Dr. King organizing

My Mom a schizophrenic shouting

Or

Making diner

The Viet Cong winning

England swinging like a pendulum do

The Iron Curtain tall and mighty 

And 

Oppressive

Skirts short on girls 

And 

Young women

Bewitched remains a popular TV show

Motown and soul music a happy marriage

Unions strong

The CIA schemes against legit governments abroad

I hate school but love books

Girls getting increasingly interesting to me

American cars too big

But 

Gas is cheap

Cigarette commercials on TV

More Americans protesting the war

The best and worst yet to come

 

Fading Light

The fading light of a November dusk

Wet leaves from yesterday’s rain

Cover the garden and sidewalk

The plodding steps of a passerby

The crows are quiet now

It feels soft and warm in the house

Maybe time for hot tea and a cookie

I’m ignoring my book now

Just as I’ve ignored writing

The depth of this moment tugs at me

It is another day waning

They are passing too quickly now

Their haste brings an emptiness

And I try to fill it with fading light

Never

Works

Recycling

I pulled the recycling bins to the curb
The trash bin too
A truck will come by tomorrow
and empty them
Then I’ll pull the bins back
to where they sit all week
Gradually they will fill up
As we take out our trash
and recycling
The process is the same every week
I like it
I like that we have so little trash
and so much more recycling
There’s also a compost bin
It wasn’t even half full this week
So I didn’t put it out on the curb
Once a month I clean the compost bin
with a water using the new hose we bought
The compost been gets pretty gross
So much of life is in cycles
That’s the way it goes

End of Night

That rugged
That tweed jacket
The cigarette smoke
The wallet full of ones
A scarf dangling
A shirt untucked
Toussled hair
Cynical
Yet laughing
The smell of bourbon
No gloves
Loafers and thin socks
Reciting poetry
Arrogant friendship
It is two men
There was a tall slinky blonde
She blew
The sun is rising
From the stoop
Shiver
Long day overlapping
Friendship
A manicured hand on the shoulder
Rise unsteadily
Time for coffee

I Saw

I saw a dust mote
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a fig tree
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a blue bird
Hello, I said
No response
I saw the Roman Coliseum
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a rain drop
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a beautiful woman
Hello, I said
No response
Finally I saw a puppy dog
Hello, I said
It barked at me
Sigh I sighly sighed sighing
And that's the end of the poem

It All Belongs to Me

"Everything belongs to me because I’m poor." - from Visions of Cody by Jack Kerouac

I walked this morning and the day belonged to me
because I am not rich
It had rained overnight and the wet ground belonged to me
because I am not rich
The large white clouds hanging in the sky belonged to me
because I am not rich
A dog approached and let me pet him and that moment belonged to me
because I am not rich
There was a cold wind that gently slapped my cheeks and it belonged to me
because I not rich
I was able to relax and not be rushed as I strolled the neighborhood as time belonged to me
because I am not rich
All the pretty houses and their lawns belonged to me too
so did the fences and the gardens and the signs and the sun and the mist and the flowers and the slick sidewalks and streets
It all belongs to me because I am not rich
Do you hear me?
I am not rich!
The rich only have money and property and cars and possessions and stocks and investments and portfolios
They own nothing of value because they are rich
We who are not rich own everything important and it is not for sale
But we will share it because we know how to share
The rich do not
The day and the sky and the grass and the smells and the cool fresh air are ours and they cannot be bought
I am happy today and feel good and healthy and wise and strong
because I am not rich
(Thank you Jack Kerouac for telling me the truth)

At Jefferson Elementary School

At Jefferson Elementary School we used to play dodgeball

We also played a game in which we alternately hit a ball against a wall (I forget the name of this competition)

We also played kickball which was just like baseball only instead of batting you kicked

I remember you could request how you wanted the ball delivered when you were up

I preferred fast and bouncy

Slow and bouncy was another option

The others were slow and rolly and fast and rolly

I was good at all these games

Basketball too

And flag football

I was a very competitive child

At Jefferson Elementary School I had teachers named Mrs. Allison,

Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Hughes, Ms. Canino, Ms. Phillips and Mrs. MacDonald

One of them I had twice but I’m not sure who

I remember that Mrs. Phillips was — or seemed — quite old

I remember that Ms. Canino and Mrs. MacDonald were young

I remember that our principal’s name was Mr. Wilde

At Jefferson Elementary School I was eligible to be in the traffic patrol because of my good grades and fine behavior

But I didn’t want to wear a stupid uniform and march and hold a big sign

So I declined the opportunity -- real rebel without a cause stuff

When the traffic patrol had drills I stayed behind in the classroom with all the boys who were ineligible because of bad grades and poor behavior

They were all my friends so I was happy

I don’t know where there girls were at this time

Probably doing some home ec stuff

At Jefferson Elementary School I had many friends and a few sworn enemies

One of my enemies was a kid we called The Choker because he would choke innocent kids with his big beefy hands

One day I’d had enough so I mustered up my courage and hit The Choker in the shoulder with a karate chop

He never bothered me again

My friends included Mark, Brent, Georges, Phillip, Lindsey, Thornton, Douglas, Stanley, Joel and Royal

There were others too

I know, none of them were girls, girls came later

We also played army which kids did a lot back then

At Jefferson Elementary School I learned to read and to write and add and subtract and multiply and divide

I learned some things about history and science

I did some art and some drama and some music

I liked learning but preferred to do it on my own

I liked reading books but I preferred to pick my own books to read thank you very much

At Jefferson Elementary School I was the class clown

I liked to make people laugh

I was good at it

The attention was nice

Teachers liked me but sometimes had to tell me that enough was enough with the funny stuff

I never thought there was such thing as enough but I didn’t want to get into trouble

At Jefferson Elementary School I discovered The Beatles when I was in the fifth grade

The day after they were on the Ed Sullivan show Ms. Phillips opined that they were just a passing fad

She was wrong

My life changed because of The Beatles

Suddenly music was really important

Long hair became desirable

I learned about being cool

My favorite Beatle was Paul

At Jefferson Elementary School I did a lot of growing up

I started as a kindergartner and left as a 6th grader

I remember it fondly

The school still stands today and when I walk by it memories come back

I visualize my old classmates and teachers and recall incidents

Maybe I’ll walk by there again soon

I like my memories of Jefferson Elementary School