GRAVEL
In the dream I am trying to write
a poem about gravel.
A seven year old girl comes up
and asks if she can write it. I say yes
I like sand and pretty stones
but gravel can be bad news
like when you get some in your shoes
And like sometimes on the highway
when it jumps up from tires of big trucks
and makes stars in our brand new window
and mommy says words that I don’t know
You can make castles out of sand
ALL AUSTIN’S CHILLIN’
Time gets a little bit bent around here
Barton Springs is as cold and as old
as the edge of the last age of ice
A Loop One four o’clock trip
is as long as a Mobius strip
Sometimes the words fail
but we’ve always got the music
RAIN IN JANUARY
It is raining
like it has never rained before
I mean, it has rained before
but not like this
Us warm in the falling night
holding each other and listening
to the particular pitter patter pattern
on the tin roof, that has never been
and will never be again. Amen
ZEN AGAIN
Before enlightenment
chop wood haul water
After enlightenment
the body still grows old
More water must be hauled
– hydration is important
More wood will be needed
the cold wants to be your lover
worm its way
into your
ever more porous bones
Write about it
as fast as you can
before your stories fall into the holes
WOOD RIVER WINDINGS
Just south of Courval ran
the crookedest river in the world, or
in Canada, or at least in our province
Crookedest river somewhere we were sure
which for some reason that I don’t recall
was always a source of great pride
Others might make the same claim
although no-one seems to be in a hurry
to claim their river as the straightest
The one with the least curves, switchbacks,
sand bars, and surprises around each bend
The one like the life we sometimes wish
but would never want
CARL HAS NOT LEFT THE BUILDING
The first night in Zurich I dream
Carl Jung is teaching right across the park
– turns out that he did
Also dream of sitting at a sidewalk café
with my teacher who studied with him
many years ago
Across the street and half way down the block
I am only mildly surprised to find
the café and table still there
SCREENING MY CALLS
If you’re sending love my way
and I’m not receiving love today
It’s just because I’m standing behind
a round-holed screen within my mind
Bullets and BB’s will fit through fine
so take your best shot and I’ll take mine
Call tomorrow when the holes are square
and you’ll find a friendlier person there
All insults and snides the screen will deflect
and whatever you say will have a healing effect
A PANTOUM TO CHASE AWAY GLOOM
Austin is as open as its mics
anthologies at midnight bloom
music and rhyme will fill your nights
good and bad there’s always room
Anthologies at midnight bloom
from budding poets far and near
good and bad there’s always room
and sometime others come to hear
From budding poets far and near
there is support for kith and kin
and sometimes others come to hear
and warmly they are welcomed in
So if you should happen on this town
music and rhyme will fill your nights
you’ll give up what’s got you down
Austin is as open as its mics
COYOTE EYES
It is Austin
so a poet is running for mayor
We stop by a back yard party
in our neighborhood to meet
greet and hopefully support her
It is Austin
so there is an eight piece band
The Bob Katz and they’re very good
A dog with coyote eyes
comes up and wants to be my friend
so I make up
a Coyote Eyes, Coyote Eyes song
and sing it to her while the band
lights up Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire
and she looks up at me with those coyote eyes
and we are very much in love
but I am late for a poetry reading
at the English Café and have to leave
so she goes and sits by another man
She is looking up at him with those coyote eyes
I think she is trying to tell him
about the song
FAVORITE FURNISHINGS
My favourite antiques are old poets
Many I love are old and dead
but better old and alive instead
The better and the worse for wear
I prefer them here much more than there
Old roll top desks not near so dear
as the dear that are still here
A patina you could not only touch but hear