Chicago alley
fire escape
mournful sax

Because you are so busy
with the way I ought to be,
measuring me up against
that standard constantly,
you haven't taken time to get
up close and try to see
just who it is I really am
and what I want to be.

You would not believe
how strong my fingernails
have gotten, I can gouge walls,
tear through flesh,
and flick incredible distances
all while laughing

When I was a boy, a big part of winter was going to the ice-skating rink in Winnetka when everything was frozen. We roller-skated in Glenview and bowled in beautiful downtown Northfield. Weather did not deter us. But when I turned about fourteen, this huge wind came along, and I went out and stood in it, and leaned into it, and after that I was not the same. I forgot all about school and in my heart became a wanderer. I left home one year later, off to see the world. I have had a wonderful relationship with the wind ever since.

I believe that a haiku
is not just seventeen syllables
written in three lines, but
a poem, with three lines
that present distinct ideas
tied together, and brought together
by the poet artist,
who can constrain him or herself
and preferably there would be
one idea on the first line, 5,
enhanced on the second, 7,
and then both tied together
in the third, 5, totaling 17
so,
let us try harder
make sure that we are writing
interesting stuff

(or whatever, I don't know)

from Mary Oliver

“Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”

(for erin and Kalliope)

I'm swimming alone in the river of time
Do rondy rondy rondy, do rondy rhyme,
Remember me as the one who swims here,
It's par, silly sage, nose buryin' time.

I must keep swimming to keep my nose even
With a point on the shore that I think must be mine,
I swim and I swim, and I never stop swimming,
Staying abreast of that arbitrary line.

When I swim over towards it, I start drifting back,
It never gets closer when I swim the oblique,
I turn back and swim harder against the strong current
No closer but even with the shoreline I seek.

I want to turn over and float on my back
And drift idly down, feet first in the stream
With my hands intertwined 'neath my head as I aimlessly
Seek circumstances that are more serene.

With my toes I could point and turn this way and that
Watching cloud pictures pass in the heavenly blue.
But wait! There is something I remember from stories
Of a waterfall somewhere. I think that it's true.

The waterfall stories are full of destruction,
Mangled bodies all broken on sharp rocks below,
So, I swim and I swim and I just keep on swimming,
There is nothing else. I have nowhere to go.

I pull at the water, do breaststroke and crawl and
Dog paddle when I'm tired. How I wish I could fly!
I seldom look over at the shore anymore,
It discourages me so much I just want to cry.

I used to swim as fast as I could
But then I would falter, lose all that I gained,
I now take it easy, I know my own limits,
I don't swim with my body, I swim with my brain!

A friend of mine used to swim with me and tell me
She loved me and wanted to always be there,
To challenge, encourage me, touch me and feel me
Splashing ahead with the burdens we'd bear.

But now she's veered off and she swims at a distance;
I can see her struggling like me, even more.
I'm trying to help but I know I can't reach her
Any more than I can reach that far away shore.

Look around! There are so many boats in the water,
I've been in a few but I've always leapt free
When with sad revelation I've found that their heading
Wasn't anywhere near to the port of "point me"

Ah, who's afraid of those waterfalls anyway,
Maybe, like rollercoasters, they're thrilling I'll bet.
We just fear them, avoid them and make up the stories
Because we have never been over one yet.

It's not easy to keep this stuff dry while I'm swimming,
I can't record anymore in the water, as such.
Would somebody please just hand me some goggles,
My eyes hurt from laughing and crying so much.