Three Poems
Trouble
After
My Grandfather's Heaven
Trouble
Buck Rodgers,
The love of your life
Is a ten thousand year old Chinese man
Disguised as a beautiful space cadet
Who went through
The dull cruelty
Of limbo
For dumb
Televised
Revenge
Madame Bovary,
Your lover
Will make you a mockery.
Your husband will be
Rectangular,
Empty,
Soulless
As South Dakota
Kurt,
You will leave
Aberdeen
Realize
Rock star dreams
Dismiss the Cinderellas
And marry a wicked stepmother
Mrs. Rochester,
Your husband
Locked you in an attic.
It got worse
After that
Dave,
You been engaged
Four times
But never married.
“One more”
You said
“And I’ll have one
For the thumb”
Diane,
You never been with a man
More than six months,
Nor single
Since sixteen
You’re thirty-six
In August
Maybe that’s why
You hate
Mathematics
Mr. Cranefly,
You have twenty-four hours
From the egg
To mature
Mate
And die.
What are you doing
Inside?
And you,
You there
In the notebook,
Mr. Poet,
Defending your life
Like a squid
With the ink,
Your troubles
Aren’t even
Worth mentioning
After
After that first mouthful of coffee
Translates through the tongue
The order to your cells,
"Go ahead now,
Wake up the skin"
After parking
Unclicking
Pulling the handle
And stepping out under
Whatever
Is falling from heaven
After the chair
That squeaks
When you lean
Like it can't shut up
About an injury
It got
Playing football
In high school
After the air choir of fans
That prevent the hearts
Of smart machines
From burning up their brains
After the leftovers
In Tupperware
Steam up the break room microwave
While your sister's voice
Rings warnings
About plastic
In your head
After the afternoon lull
After the urge to nap
After the stiff neck
Tired feet
Sore ass
After the desperate return
To the coffee cup
After the emotions
Of managers, co-workers, clients
Like rock piles
That complicate the harbor
Between the old labor colony
Of Sitka
And the freedom
Of the sea
After the
"After you?"
"No, after you's"
Navigate the barriers
Of clenched teeth
At the bottleneck
Of the door
After the meal
Engineered
For an astronaut
After wrestling
Television
Or alcoholism
After you have disengaged yourself
From all the screens
Took off your clothes
Flossed your teeth
We'll be here
Ready
Easy
Open as Highway 101
Patient as old growth
La Push
Neah bay
Free and sweet like August:
The blackberries
The purring cat for your lap--
Always always always
We will not
Go away
My Grandfather's Heaven
I met her on the road/She stole my heart/Where is she now?
—Å Jänta Å Ja {oh yan-tuh oh yah} (Oh Girl, Oh Yes)
Old Swedish folk song
My Grandfather’s Heaven
Goes early with white breath
Down puddle dirt roads
Seldom used
To fishing holds
By fish well traveled
There are cigarettes and cribbage games
With angles
He’d (when men) known,
Bent once,
By work
But laughing now,
Straight and easy
As trees
My Grandfather’s heaven
Is ten
Fingers
Instead of factory stubs
And the breath there
Moves effortless
Ly
It’s sun on cold mornings
And quick bites without warning
And the steelhead are singing
Å Jänta Å Ja
