Category: Travel

WAIRARAPA

WAIRARAPA

The road
from Wellington
up into the Wairarapa
is a steep and winding road
through green as green as Irish envy

If you keep your eye
on the center line of the road
your breakfast may stay where you put it

If you look down
along the cliffs and crags
all the hardness wrapped in soft
to count the valley cows and sheep
your stomach will forgive you
tomorrow or the next day or the next
and you will always have today

WRITING THE AUSTRALIA TRIP

WRITING THE AUSTRALIA TRIP

We went to teach, we went to learn
we did a lot of both and more of some

We met amazing people – they met us
perhaps none will be the same again

Details I leave for further poems
which I hurry to hurry to write

before the ripples rippling out
are lost
clockwise and counter clock
down the toilet bowl of time

12.12.2012 AND COUNTING

12.12.2012 AND COUNTING

Been out of Austin six months now
two oceans, some rivers, and a sea

Gathering material to throw
into a big pot of Shiner Bock

A pinch of limestone ground real fine
eye of salamander, blind of bat
and horn of ram from the Shiner cap

With branches from an old live oak
leaves still clinging to the stock
a dozen poets stirring the pot
and breathing their words across the top

Watch it bubble and settle and steam
something will scum to the surface soon
haiku to draw through a slender straw
and cups of couplets in rhyming itme

The Mayan calendar is running down
but I’ve got next year’s Marilyn and
ten new poems, and plenty of faith
that awe and Austin will carry on

FINDING GIACOMETTI

FINDING GIACOMETTI

It is a high calling to be in trouble
as you travel along the road
creating good Samaritans at every trip and fall

The trick starts out by renting a car
from a small gas station/liquor store

Sketchy directions and a wrong turn
an unmanned toll booth and two tunnels
some workmen suggest the one to the right
a tunnel we thought would surface in England

Not England but where?
Industrial park on a holiday
one man working in the flowers
directions to get us a little closer

And then, what you don’t find
unless you get this lost

A town with a Giacometti university
and a statue in the circular town square
that might well have been worth
coming all the way to France to see

ROAD TRIP

ROAD TRIP

There is a stretch
in the long loping hills of Montana
where the laws of speed and time are not enforced

Where over every hill there’s another hill
that far to the bottom
and that far up the other side

A-sail, a-sail on an earth-rocked ship
two thousand feet above an ancient sea

Wheels endlessly humming
to the radio’s timeless tunes

Suspended forever midway
between those you’re running to
and those you’re running from