| TRAIN PART I I wonder where the train on which we broke it off was headed and where, if I had stayed aboard, I might be now instead of wishing to revisit the last moment of that night when we had such a tenuous hold on Orion, and Cassiopaeia, but thought we could hold onto them forever. Part II Forever? How contrived I wonder, if I�d stayed aboard, where I�d be now instead of second-guessing myself into oblivion. THE PRAIRIES In the night, the praries wake to the silence and move with the wind into another state of being: the dreamers leave their dreams behind and pursue one true faith and the corn � those fields of corn � they belie their maternal instincts and march (in silence) westward an inch at a time, an inch at a time. THE PRAIRIES From my lofty perch, eight feet above the train tracks, I could scarcely see above the rows of wheat but I could see them scheming, plotting their escape, saying �If we fall back on our trenches And regroup just west of Regina, I say we could rebuild our defences� and �Intelligence says they�re making ground in the north and if we allow them to sweep down behind us from the west, and cut us off, we�re done for.� I heard every word, though none was spoken aloud, and I silently concurred and hoped, for the sakes of their tall, blond children that such a strategy might work. I would hate to see their children subjected to a life under such agrarian hostility. I was there for it; I was gliding overheard, my cold glare capturing every motion recording every motion for all the world to revisit in times when the prairies have long since slid into the Pacific. RUSSIAN SUBMARINE There�s a Russian Submarine eight hundred feet off the coast it�s had such a long voyage, from Svergdansk to Washington and back a hundred times and now it lies in our waters dead to the world, a world away from the glory it once promised and the fear it once inspired. they say they�re filming a movie there but I don�t see any cameras maybe I�ll reach for my own and make this moment a keepsake, though for whom I can�t be certain, as anyone who might value the events of my life I�m certain never to meet. PITTSBURGH HOTEL BAR Comfort (at $3.50 an indulgence) PITTSBURGH, THREE RIVERS PARK In the city of steel the imp�n�arn before me, I bow down my head and think �Have I found the junction Where lives pass into dreams and dreams awake to life?� Could it be here, where the three rivers flow indistinctly from one disaster to another (though you can never be sure which way they flow � there�s only one who knows, and she�ll never tell) that Providence meets desolation? Here, the three rivers meet, each carrying me to a different place each converging on this sorry state of affairs. PITTSBURGH, MON. BRIDGE, TUESDAY Car slips on a patch of ice, loses his footing, and carries the man and his cellular phone and his briefcase and his hostile takeovers and his infidelities into the Monongahela, or as the kids say, The Mon. A nickname that really doesn�t do justice to this most enticing of demons Car slips on a patch of ice, loses his footing That�s the official explanation (reports of suicide are frowned upon), the one that reaches you waking to the six-thirty news update, his death recorded sandwiched between the Steelers� eight-point win and the weather. ICE STORM Lining up to be the first to see the day once the dark night of these events has passed after an ice storm we thought might never end How we could have lived so close to the days before electricity, (when you might have called your neighbour, not the national guard, to help you shovel out) and never have appreciated it, I fear I�ll never understand. BOOKS AND POEMS I said, to the short man, as we passed a pitcher of beer back and forth, �You seem troubled. Don�t worry, that�s why we�re all here,� I said, waving my hands aimlessly at the room around us, though we were alone. �I write poems, you know, that�s my escape. I write books and poems and books of poems.� He didn�t speak; he wouldn�t have if he could�ve, but that said it better than he ever could have. I read from my book, aloud, until my voice grew faint and I asked him what could drive a man to such desperate straits as writing such things. He looked out the window, into the anonymity of the twilight, and my eyes followed his to the empty expanse beyond the glass. Sundown, and not even the vast fields of crops at hand dared whisper in the falling light, and so the short man lay silent still. I said, to the short man, �Take me; I have seen a lot of things And I want to tell you so much And I would if not for the delicateness of this moment I write poems, you know, and they say it so much better than I ever could.� FENG SHUI I knew I remembered you from somewhere, I just couldn�t remember where. Playing with your hair in your picture window As you thought about clouds & dreams & world peace trying vainly to develop a sense of spirituality drawing on everything you saw. you couldn�t account for these fantastic visions (you claimed you�d never imagined anything of the sort) but you knew I looked familiar; perhaps once you saw me, stranded on the wings of good fortune desperately seeking a way down � I was afraid of those heights � or perhaps once you saw me, a political figure, thinking of Kerouac and the highway when I should have been thinking �Yes, Mr Speaker, fiscal responsibility is the only way to keep this vessel afloat.� And with a snap of the thumb and forefinger it came to me � I had seen you one winter evening, Playing emotional feng shui with every arrangement in your social life You were so seemingly assured, a Trudeau of towering wit, but he just tipped his hat and walked right by. ON �COKE MACHINE GLOW� music/poetry, the shrinkwrap reads, the grey label on the shrinkwrap but they had to invent that category just to sell CMG record stores don�t sell books, but that�s where I found it. OLD SONG, NEW SPIN Phrases outlast their intentions, if one soldier takes them under his wing and bears them as fruit for future generations to feed upon. I gathered this as you frowned at my inability To remember my improvised lines As I stood aside and murmured something like �after you, but before beauty� or �I�ll follow you, but only out of a sense of duty�. I should have said something less Napoleonic and maybe, had I spoken elsewise, I could have lent some new meaning to those old words. Phrases outlast their intentions, if one good soldier holds them close and leads them, hand in hand, into future generations� starving vocabulary. How about �pyrrhic victory� maybe �only the young in the days that remain� or �wint�ry eyes� Hm. Wint�ry eyes�. �lest I should be forced to start all over and lose myself through those wint�ry eyes again.� Yes � yes, that�ll do nicely. STRAIGHT FLUSH, QUEEN HIGH (with regards to B.E.) �O trouble, lift your head and wake, leave this place, for you are cannot adapt to this climate leave, and find lesser pursuits to delve into.� (because every great philosopher knows you can�t end a sentence with a preposition) Can�t help but wonder if all that�s better left to those who claim to know what they�re doing � certainly not you and I, but someone close to our ideology. I know you were in my mind, acquainting yourself with the others in your position I know you felt what I feel, lamenting for what I thought when I first read �On The Road�, though I didn�t actually like the book, when I should have been Spouting obvious generalities along the lines of �we are for the people� and �tightening our belts is the only way to appease the international community.� Today, Luxembourg signed its declaration of liberty and twelve Palestinians were killed by Israeli tank fire and courage, which couldn�t have come at a worse time, overcame me, and I drifted off sleeping fitfully, alone with my neologisms and witty retorts and logical conclusions I let it all slip for one moment But that was all these paradoxically divided schemes needed to fall apart and leave me, destitute, hungering for �Another card, please, dealer� and when it came, �Straight flush, Queen high.� THE MOVIES Morning broke over the rippling waters where last night you let your engagement ring dangle precariously over the darkness below and let it fall, the moonlight resounding off the diamonds across the whitecaps. You�re the oppressed protagonist at the soul of this tale � you�ve got all the right answers, but not so much that you seem out of reach. every man and woman wakes beside a lover and every Canadian knows the words to O Canada if you believe the movies |
| from a place close enough to home that i might tread on familiar ground; removed enough that i might be a world away from what i've come here to get away from. march 2002 |