You
had returned to do literary farmwork as you put it,
I had intended to write in and of North Dakota edit
publish there all which I did, regional, yes and it
meant going back to the rootends of history family
and nature, north European in northern America, I was
bent to make art of that giving scant thought to nation
or world, a mission, right, did you, words got written
printed were read I edited magazines went into literary
journalism I translated German Danonorwegian unknown
matter weighed in on issues abandoned poetry, you quit
writing, just poetry the other went on though I tired
of being a writer I had not done this, you mean, the
public role of writer book signing the hick talk-show
interviews all to carry out a mission, you were engagé,
one onetime trial I liked to think only in North Dakota
but I was taking more part in world and nation than
I knew tuned in to whiskey football militant neochristendom,
you, I drank I watched tee-vee, were becoming an average,
an ordinary citizen down to redneck political habitude
I hate to admit not that I served party or candidate,
what were you writing, journalism freelance I had remarried
wanted to parlay it into a living, nonliterary farmwork
were you tired of literature, no but it had run inert
in me, did you get the work, too little the mission
ended on its own everyone had left, who would that,
some other people of the word returned in seventy-eight
when I had they recreated North Dakota made it large
were gone by eighty-four I sat alone in native dimwit
environment, wanting a new start, why not the charm
of being an unextolled wordman is that no agent or
public tells one not to hange what not to do next one
may start over, how many beginnings is one allowed,
I do not know, you had made a new start in North Dakota
were you ready to bolt that, I, everything you had
put into it, ah, the land had not changed had it the
quiet havening prairie you had written of even hymned,
I had come to hate the tamed inert domestic look of
North Dakota that I too was taking on I needed reignition,
which meant, I had to have the spark of a Jeffers a
Kazantzakis in my writing, but you did not move to
Crete or Big Sur, I would not have thought to follow
or emulate to live in worn-out places I wanted nonhuman
nature around me the work of Wilhelm Lehmann inspired
the notion, who had dwelt on the shore of weary old
Europe, in a critic’s retreat while I had a huge
elsewhere to turn to, you were young in northern California
returned a missionary to your home state then got quenched
in the tame environment you needed a new spark, fire,
and nonhuman company you would have had more of that
in Alaska why go to Flagstaff Arizona, well
I
had been there nineteen sixty-eight the light had caught
my mind the way it let a two-track nutmeg road cut through
the loner ponderosa woods toward hot red draw or naked
volcano, an eagle wait in the middle of town on top of
snag unthreatened, and the summer blue an afternoon that
I just had to walk, I had not stayed had made me a compact
to return the which I did in eighty-five a trip to canyon
with others that took in Flag en route and I was caught
again, let’s move here I wrote young mate at home
who now a nurse had heart for new beginning, we did it
that late summer yet I kept ties to North Dakota one of
them romantic she did not know of that stilled the marriage
made me a moping autumn guest in the high rock meadow country
I explored and in the house my one friend a tree on which
or whom I leant to look at sky that bright green needles
framed and mourn the marriage miss another woman other
tree I had known up north, I had grieved in Arizona the
first time too might have reckoned one had to do such to
meet the price of a beauty that now as earlier invited
my homage did not distract from hurt, loomed only beyond,
not as earlier I gave its sun the while it wanted to light
in me a unromantic passion make me Cawdor the Greek, I
learned the town on foot that lay in mountain and woods
had nothing to drive no need of means to get away I was
already there, trekked north out of Buffalo Park my woe
tree’s home along some caverned magma the unmarked
route through unnamed summit tween two rocks on to nutmeg
Elden road that switchbacked up to ridge toward mountain
windy loft at ninety-three hundred in view the plateau’s
half round, I would know in time the name of every told
rise or fall on it ashen cone to yellow arroyo early knew
main peak main canyon the one keeping other unseen, went
down a skittery trail to eastern Flag and rode the bus
to home of my woe, many day I would do that loop in sun-
or snow-light I watched them build a trail on my unmarked
part would walk or wait at ease in reek of tree sap wild
dung head otherwhere too Mars Hill the Freidlein road,
I camped alone at Dry Lake in March three landowning deer
awatch on timid Dakotan who had only come to know what
public property meant, I reclimbed the high one in June
as I had vowed my first time up took in nutcrackers’ sound
again full round of plateau the canyon a grey void its
north rim dim beyond, faint Navajo Mountain that led eye
out to jig on noon’s Painted Desert
did
all this reignite your writing, not yet, were you blocked,
no, cat get your pen, I managed to work at a novel I had
started in North Dakota but I was half-hearted I did not
like it, the Arizona light had not turned you into Zorba
the grandee, too much weighed my mind a silent marriage
that drove me into, had you and your wife quit talking,
we had tried to talk never wanted to at the same time each
driven into an own silence that with me turned meditative,
which helped, me not the marriage I think I had put her
in with the inert of North Dakota the ended mission she
was young too inexperienced did not know what to do I cannot
blame, so you meditated, I read Wilhelm Lehmann that first
winter he had written a country journal training a good
eye and mind not to mention style on nature in the protonazi
era nought of which he mentioned he knew the way what it
excluded he brought me to a calm an enlightenment, nonromantic
passion, romantic nonpassion maybe, while you walked the
territory toyed with a novel manqué who met the
rent, she had a nursing job, you might have written edited
published become known in your new region even made some
kind of living or did you not want to work, oh I had had
it with local celebrity I was lying low the words of Lehmann
were enough right then I did seek unimportant work but
mainly waited, for, the marriage to mend or die my thinking
on the trail to arrive at some plan, you were in mystical
retreat, wenn Skepsis und Sehnsucht sich begatten dann
entsteht Mystik to quote Nietzsche I had both the skepticism
of one who had run aground in public private and the yearning
for light, another German, I am no Germanist but I could
read the literature the conservative strand in its romantic
tradition that rejected the human today for unchanging
changing nature appealed to me I had even translated him
a little, Lehmann, right I had gotten others to help, his
work was conservative in method, he kept to the German
lyric of tradition I farmed the traditional in North Dakota
he pointed the way he had done at an earlier time did now,
an earlier, California I was young in love I chanced on
him there his objective Naturmagie had much to do with
what I felt as much as it would with what I thought during
the regional mission with what came to me walking in Arizona
he has been a vademecum, the mission had meant humanity
while here the nonhuman caught you, I weighed the notion
of a magazine to spread word of Lehmann but shrank from
acting in public I had had it, you did not act in private
either the half-hearted writing were you blocked indeed,
no out on strike, against, the personage I had created
the world in which it had been, how long did your strike
go on the dead-ending marriage, I left, you, I went back
to North Dakota, why you had just, well
I
rejected what the man of action had done there but the
simple man in me was lonely in the fine woods had not gotten
over North Dakota so returned unwilling to wait out the
marriage in want of company a certain woman, had to drink
with a friend or two, jolly some guy in the trade who meant
to do a book of mine, all which happened on a one-month
jaunt in eighty-six, I wintered again with wife wrote an
end to novel damné moved out the next March entraining
for el-ay Oregon a wide rain swing that led to North Dakota
the downtown apartment wherein I set to rewin what I had
acted to forfeit a slot in tamed environment woman’s
heart, took on an editing job portended well even thought
to draw my mate to join me whom I missed the one in North
Dakota not coming to much, flew down to Arizona midwinter
reunion with light not only her I had missed that too and
on our drives around plateau I lent an eye to the high
snowy one wanting to climb it scent it had a hunch of more
to be lived if I came back let marriage that had started
to revive go on, of her inviting, but the job I had to
have remained in Fargo as did vantage-windowed apartment
looking north on hospital and train station which grey
view rang of who had left, she could be one to arrive I
thought, so plane-rode home or sort of home would read
the word depression in letters try to help then I got fired
without warning had to summer in the country on dead uncle’s
land the letters becoming few my renewed hatred of North
Dakota uphoven, would she welcome me again I did not know
but Arizona might, no matter what I went in autumn eight-eight
to a light that would not have one ill or sad a woman of
no shown emotion who motioned to reconciliate bought me
a desk would hike with me none too willing, talk only night-shift
mad at dawn spawling the truth, our marriage sickened to
an end we could not delay and I began to be in Arizona
had dreamed not lived in it until that spring when I met
a woman I had known, the trees’ sudden flower a dandle
of new prospect, got out of retreat to join the hiking
club made ready to take to the mountain in full and was
that July, I went on my own
you quit the marriage,
nothing to quit, and the girl in North Dakota did you dump her, more or less,
to fall in love with someone you had known, no I almost did there was another
more than one in the club I was emergent, you seem to have gone from woman to
woman to woman yet make out you were in quest of fire a nonhuman environment
what led you that or love, I have thought of this I do not know, you, my Old
Adam had not run loose that much it might have been, an Adam truly aging now,
turned forty-eight the autumn of eighty-nine, you went on your own were you ready
to write as well, no, to work, I got a driving job with a hemodialysis company
that took me on the Navajo reservation in predawn a thirteen-hour day three times
a week and I enjoyed it would awe at phantom huge rebirth of high one out of
early mist that grew before me when I headed into town with stoic Indian load
I liked them too reminded me of norsk Dakota folk I had a chance to look in their
homes meet hogan Indian way I do not regret the job it linched my new time in
Flagstaff, you rented an apartment no doubt, a room with bath I did not want
to cook or pother, the club you joined, yes the hiking club I had not joined
much of anything to date my first time with them not good a hell-hot trek into
cacti cat’s claw Sycamore Canyon we all ran out of water the guide had
written eight miles it amounted to twice that but I did another they were a nice
intelligent group that shared one love of mine they knew would teach me the rim
the canyon Verde Valley take me where on the mountain I had not seen, it helped
you over the marriage, I got on my feet as I went on my feet into a brazen eden
that volleyed did not keep the light where one might turn look up or down at
a passed white ridge and see the joying self that one had been or at the glim
of a needle rock to come that one would be I think I even met that self a time
or two, which the self you had been that you were or would be, the new emergent
self of the trail not three but the same, a child of joy had you caught the spark,
in a way I had not forethought I had come to the light to age and here I was
turning young, had you dreamed of rejuvenation, no nor is that the word, but
to turn young, I seemed to become what I had never known get young at last, to
juvenate then, whatever it might mean, yet you brought a past into youth to a
town of median age twenty-five you meant to write again did the juvenation work,
I was not ready I had more with the club with women or alone to do had to learn
the art of being single a part of me had to die, which, oh the North Dakota where
I had known to expect to get nothing back my marriage sullen heavy North Dakotan,
and had to die that another could juvenate, not that being young was it I only
wanted out or up, into the light, out of darken heavy into light or light a word
of more than one meaning the two words leicht und Licht not quite one in German
come almost together in verb zu lichten unlade, your thought at the time, no
I had found the leicht und schwer dichotomy in Lehmann not been aware of it a
critic lent me the afterthought, the heavy Dakota schwer part had to die, go
into eclipse, while you took wing with women you met in the club, well
I
had met Cee already a tall thin riant redhead who knew
a young inlaw of mine that we were in town when she moved
there and called, whom I brought along on the first club
hike the hot trek into Sycamore, Cee and I got on well
but my heart went then to Em a broody swart New Mexicana
who let me walk alone with her, with Cee the club I had
jokesome camaraderie footing the median age around my own
to grin in hot sun thin chill air of Lockett Meadow or
on Abineau Canyon hard ascent to whitened krummholz or
in Garland Prairie lava dust seemed very right, the warm
yet nondomestic meet for beer at the end did too, married
unmarried came solo to hike, drink, not pair off my try
to do which with Em got rejected on almost the hurt morning
I moved out my wife not seen or heard in shut room an added
pain yet end nor beginning was new to me I knew such naked
teeter time that I should learn the art of singlehood unentwined
not let me get too near to full-lipped -titted temptacious
Cee who light-headed kept it light gave nuance to the word
making man want her the more, who had a young boyfriend
of old in Maryland anyway, I held to my own with her the
club on Kendrik Peak Bill Williams Mountain the knee-ache
road to Doyle Saddle where at summer height rain blurred
the light into mountain cavity, met women throughout, Mia
the warm quick therapist, perfect Meen the Bangladeshi
an architect, men as well I won their respect got thewn
and trim the other vocation on Navajo l and brought more
than money enough yet when Cee mentioned the single life
what did I think of it I had to say it’s a worm’s,
hard to credit remark I might have made at giddy Philomena
Spring toward top of the high one my eye areaching Mount
Trumbull the yellow north over canyon or lovely Meen, I
had weakened no doubt yet marched on blithe to autumn the
lower acacia tanque land the club went into during it,
on West Clear Creek I darted over ridges in the behold
of Cee with whom I left the cantina that night, would she
walk me home, I have something for you Rod turned out to
be a fart, I would walk her, when I moved to leave the
hugging kissing her lank legs twined me from behind I had
no urge to go would writhe in her moany clutch some two-three
times a week toward exmas, a fart her nether voice would
call to me, Cee did not laugh in the throe but kept it
light until we tolled and meant the heavy romantic word,
too soon her boy of old would come on holiday visit I heard
too late to which she had agreed in our joky prelapsarian
time, would room with her a midthirties woman who intended
me now to think or do I knew not what, I had known not
to get into this, been japed, went on alone with Navajo
land the club then back to love hut let her slorp my cock
all January the next month fucking a many more times a
week, we even mock-plotted marriage respecting nor it nor
each other yet were in love to her limit who broke us off
that March, the friend had announced return I would come
to know, her pretext a vow to quit sex altogether did not
outweigh what I had vowed at exmas, do it one more time
I am gone, but I made no threat I wanted to keep it light
with a vengeance in the manner of hebephrenic Cee who lived
a day ago tomorrow, end it light, I said okay that I would
be in town, meant to try on camaraderie again which might
have done had I loved and hated my madwoman not so much
and I felt me hiking too bitter sick to accord the light
its due, when Kay arrived
another madwoman,
no but young twenty-one, even so another, Kay got there in time to take my attention
away from Cee, why did you keep at the women when you needed to write, I, more
Old Adam, my impulse went I think toward marriage I had never gotten writing
done without the help of a mate to steady my life add to the income must have
believed I had to have that, which you would not have found in Cee, or sought,
too light-headed, a madcap seductive knave would not have done, poet had turned
to strayaway with her then Kay arrived to crown your juvenation did she, in an
odd way I could not have imagined, how, we met at the annual santa-day party
of the hiking club I had an ordinary attraction to young blonde tall thin as
Cee who knew the perfect Meen they had worked at Arcosanti together she had come
to attend the yew and wanted to talk to me on divorce in middle age an assigned
interview we went on a nonclub outing with two or three to Dry Lake that snow-free
winter period had a chance to trail-talk in the woods’ grim muted beauty
she had quick intelligence I liked a nice mole on her temple, and liked you too,
in that odd way who came on like a nun to teach or learn not threaten my singlehood
her kew and ay too pointed to hint of romance yet she wanted to be around me
I thought or wanted me around, while Cee faded, not quite I kept on terms with
the redhead whom Kay had made a friend of as well she knew how to treat women
manage them, Kay, yes they responded to her and men the same no one ever so young
as she in the room, did your onetime madcap knave still hike go drinking, not
often once boy had arrived did come to fuck me a turn or three even then I had
lost the need to have just her my attitude take or leave, unwanting, oh Kay detected
want that I waited lorn and hearty to be told not the only one of the hiking
club like that, what did she want, to run or lead make many one follow her wise-woman
bent did not know yet what all she might have wanted nor did I it did not matter
was too much fun in hot late spring to tag along to Arcosanti free hiking visit
tour that she a quondam live-in worker had arranged no one thought of Kay’s
own want but I am retrospecting now, you went to where she had met the Bangladeshi,
we did on a forenoon that heated down Mogollon Rim glacis through roar of light
past Verde River loudening to mediterranean garden in thorn desert that a dreamer
had made to model an arcology meant to maximize interaction accessibility of
urban environment minimize use of energy raw materials reducing environmental
pollution waste allowing interaction with natural surround he had written named
Arcosanti, did you ride with the object of your romantic nonpassion, I only watched
it had not come to that I rode with Cee two other men, while Kay, she had three
women a man in her Toyota walked us in and no one had to pay where everyone remembered
young wise one who now led a hike to ancient rubbled petroglyph in the sun-blighted
din hot urgent wind returning us to dreamland a tour then lunch caffé balcone
whence looking out I thought I liked rude Arcosanti romanesque in poured concrete
might even want to stay and write but Kay said no you had to serve the dream
to be here unrelated work not allowed which wafted a hint of the monocratic,
you were next to her at table, I had hiked with Cee they had caught a photo on
the written rock of us to them we were a pair, you, Kay and I were at head of
outdoor table her brother ran the caffé one guy acted in love with her
another an Arco capo had wanted to marry Kay I was told but read no meaning to
me withal I had joy in camaraderie again, what more had Kay told, that her people
had been Mennonite the olden way migrated to Phoenix during her childhood she
had come north to take journalism I was not the only one she intimated to, but,
one of the few men I think she quickened the mind the breath took us to a reading
matinée little theatron where one poet began a chant in German meint ihr
nicht the second followed with don’t you know translation the don’t
coming on nicht a kindergarten round of lead trochaic a hunchbacked other read
some talky poem in which a friend was said to have moved to Vermont and I whispered
that a move to Vermont did not rank as ritual act except in Manhattan, to Kay
who knew what you meant, how parochial she said she had to have known, did you
overestimate the whippet, no at evening colloquy in bigger open theatron with
him the great very man she held her own he had uttered the mantra crowding is
good and suffocation is grand she rejoined he thought it amusing not mockery,
did she mention the Plan Voisin of Le Corbusier who had written of a tower city
in nineteen twenty-one to crowd the residents free up land, no, the garden city
movement, no, the name Charles-Edouard Jeanneret, no, did la bimba go on to compare
the love of magnitude speed in the Voisin with the complexity-miniaturization-duration
imperative that dry-land Arcosanti embodied, no, did she deride i capelloni or
the crybaby me generation in America or refer to the pedestrian as normal organism
a given in arcology design, no, tell you to skirt Arcosanti if you wanted utopia
that the project would add a frugal evident manmade deed to evolving cosmos did
she mourn her plight tween yesterday and tomorrow where she had to receive in
the future what you had said in the now of then, I, where she could talk to you
in only tomorrow with words of the yesterday becoming round her know she might
well have died when what she had remitted got to a you who did not yet exist
so admit you were doomed to work at the future in a mind of loss, I, quote Zappa
Santana on nostalgia immortality, I do not think she had gone into the mind of
the maestro to the extent of remembering all he had written none of them had
but Meen, them, the hiking company Meen was not along though El might have done
it whom Kay had recruited, El, bright languid woman of Cee’s vintage taught
misanthropology anthropophagy at the local den of scowlership where Kay had had
her in a class oh El would have known much more of Zappa Santana than Kay or
the padrone ever had she had seen the end of the movement but I doubt the man
whom Meen had called a passive god had mentioned Frank or Carlos, how did she
happen to say, I challenged her to put him in a phrase it came to her immediately,
when, the day we had gone to Philomena were having a brew the Muslim tradition
did not, you have brought her up time out of lack of mind you admired the woman,
she had intellect perfect beauty a command of language, who would have been worth
your loving as mate yet you hung with a knave a kid a fun academic would not
have married any one, I did not want true amore I meant to stay in the day ago
tomorrow of Cee had not quite done with her not all with Kay, did you think you
would have tomorrow, well
I
fed the old animal the poet in me that lived today had
to chance not reaching tomorrow so on the night ride home
in the back seat, thinking of El the moment odalisque of
my eye I had only met, I let the redhead slorp away on
me the men in front had to know pretended not to, whom
I imagined angelic and plucking oud in a harem she had
ridden with young admirer would turn out to be more academic
than fun had come languid into wrong world or age I would
think, nor did I mind Kay’s new role unpaid factotum
buddy to El a tender of plant and dog that I had to hang
around two to watch the one in an odd way I wanted, El
no match, Cee no presence her private youth retreat to
run, eye Kay on warm White Mountains trek where she slept
in tent with El who had thought of the outing invited me
would get the Hawaii notion as we drove home over whirlwindy
plateau, talk Kay into it the two of them chattering kidlike
who had been matron and protégée to now,
not much had gone on in tent I thought, mere being with
Kay had wrung the maturity out of El made her unguarded
nonpossessive, if you don’t he’ll have to throw
the ticket away she said the which I had given Cee my intended
companion on jaunt to visit old friend Hum in Kaneyohe
an idea she had leapt then wavered at all torn tween me
and boy so I had written her off in a note retrieved the
ticket would have eaten the loss, it will do you good,
that night we reunited to have Chinese I knew they had
talked that El had worked on Kay who would have to overcome
more doubts than anyone knew, sat grownup in black tween
juvenated El and me in motley, made no announcement none
needed, the need on me to prove in time remaining what
a kindly eunuch uncle I was so I paid a manner of court
to my worried young niece took her à deux to lunch
on many a hike a malling sortie to buy luggage a jacket
she had not demanded or hinted at, who had moved into hut
over gravel yard from Cee’s would put on Berg von
Webern wield a cigar when I came, the redhead not around,
in token reciprochal effort and knowing she liked me I
mentioned that we were attracted, true but in all honesty
Rod I think I need someone nearer my own age, I hid a smile
had not proposed to marry the woman even take her to Hawaii
the notion of El’s that I had warmed to did not get
mad or sad would not on a another visit at what she must
have early determined to broach, you know I’m not
going to sleep with you, the announcement Kay not I had
needed, to me it had a childhood ring my Adam not daunted
knew how the said could be undone, I let her off with a
verbal shrug went on to hone my courtier role with touch
hug innocent kiss of dry white hand allowed, not that I
had contriven or was in love I had been foxed and wanted
to serve unwanton dominant kid who approved the break with
Cee would turn to me to advise in her writing meet Reader
Over Your Shoulder the cheeky one good style book I knew,
meant not to lean on uncle too much in matter of money,
draw own light weight, welcome Kay wrote Hum his wife and
child en route to mainland there would be room in apartment
a broad-minded North Dakotan I had known some time who
worked as pee-ay ran swam hiked had written to welcome
Cee too, I landed alone to wake in lush bird racket grey
ay-em my niece woman to come third day on Cee’s ticket
I had bought late though we would return together, Hum
a night-work man I went out solo in the dense perfumy light
walked windward shore to Heeia park on the left volcano
rock to the right an active reactive sea, around all huge
vegetation, took what they called the Circle Island bus
noting lax good humor within it the face haole or native
or Malay no matter the country’s look the same even
on Dole hacienda and more loose pidgin kuka kuka the nearer
to town where I marveled at make-do toggery unhurried ease
mid urban Honolulu had rice canned meat in workingman diner
that Hum had told me of to see a rainbow hung on clouded
east green palisade with sunlight anywhere, man woman two
children waving nodding bland at the traffic along my ride
to Kaneyohe, in Hawaii a candidate did not run I thought
he just stood out and greeted, in Hawaii the trouble had
already happened no need to devote one’s mind to
it put on a suit, I might well find what I had not knowing
wanted an other light than rugged Crete’s or Point
Lobos’ or that of my mountain dryland one no gentler
belonging to wet and that permeated vegetation conch rock,
shone from within, what I saw nodding waving at me on the
vacant wide sand but now I awaited Kay who would come all
jittery to live in strange men apartment had to forewarn
the good Hum a worlding she or anyone would like, don’t
play the white slaver, then Kay arrived much the woman
in fact had on a long dress walked tall unworried to accept
the lei I had gotten did mention that family had seen her
away at airport, they wanted to say goodbye you know well
Ag had met you which helped, their sacrificial lamb I might
have said, young quiet Ag the sister had done a rim weekend
and we had talked up half the trail had shared my canteen,
must have deemed me all right for Kay to go to on altar
of man lust Kaneyohe, in Hauula damp green canyon trek
we saw ate mountain apple the next day mud-slogging Kahana
Valley to end awash on beach to whiff grilled meat a monthlong
campout near at hand of native gens, no one had to live
inside, Hum never shut a window, when he worked or slept
we took in Diamond Head the botanical garden my eye on
Kay who seemed intent to do all wore a camera no hint for
me that she wanted old uncle around so much or not might
have meant to show gratitude to who had said early he would
not be courting another on trip, not that she had expected
even thought of it, or true gratitude no show of which
I needed thought only to serve walked one forenoon with
her to the Heeia where we spread a towel in sea light lay
did not much talk I watched her breathe who had a tanktop
on no bra one nipple half in view and I had to feather-stroke
her arm white arm do more move into it all though Kay I
knew would not be easy now or anytime but I did not think
she would jerk away like a twelve year old, don’t
touch don’t let it go any further, with a child cry
of real hurt bewilderment and I withdrew had not wanted
a little girl or to make love terrification had not even
plotted an entry into Hum’s other bedroom that I
had given to her unasked, rape seduction trickery did not
turn Uncle on, in a while we continued the walk with no
one it seemed too upset rebuffed to enjoy the molten Hawaiian
light, I’ll buy you lunch Kay said, that anyone owed
a what to whom who knew it did not matter, I went along
and during the meal I voiced an unapologetic mild regret
had not meant to offend but that Heeia moment had jerked
an end to courtier role had made me mere patron to Kay
the protégée, an El to her child, she looked
serene again would take next day to deviling me on crowded
Ala Moana beach a wraith too thrawn in swimsuit yet flirty
with Hum in bookshop too where she thumbed a gay lesbian
paper, tween us on couch that evening to watch some tee-vee
docudrama her body a spindle no more with arch naked leg
on show, moppet in heat who knew we would have to remain
inactive nonreactive set me against old friend knowing
we knew to maintain her pale of virginity, Hum a stalwart
had been to the world let squirm-titter couch ploy go on
to the limit it had not been meant to exceed even reach
and I stood it well had held no claim would remain indulgent
when she snipped at me next day in rented car to meet two
home clubbers had done Kauai were flying in to take the
Oahu round enplane with us then to mainland, how can I
learn to drive this thing with you talking all the time
I can’t, got worse the hikers matron women aboard
up windward coast yet did not quench my lax good-humored
repartee, had to yield to it, Kay turning now to the tour
at hand had everyone visit the Marcos transit tomb even
talked to armed attendants, we agreed on Byodo-in though
a temple at verdant fluted Koolau range which recalled
early time I had spent in meditation made me aware how
low my mind had come a thought underlined at moment Kay
struck the gong too hard, my juvenate animal could night-fly
home sleep next to the wild unwanton here at least, I woke
when she cried land and pointed into the coming dawn where
I saw but rud dim light on water how could she tell, a
woman knows, Kay had a way to make one trow her very word
to madden one blew a dormant matron woman in the ear awake
who would not talk to us again, had left my car at woody
mountain airport whence we drove to her hut took out the
luggage but she did not want me to carry it, you are not
going to help me in Rod, vexed white brow, afraid of too-warm
parting hug with Cee at neighbor window I thought did not
think twice
were there good
times you and Kay in Hawaii at all, no bad times none wholly good
the morning we went to Pearl Harbor had to wait to take the Arizona launch so
we checked out a flea market Aloha Bowl made a detailed plan to meet at the end
she wanted to walk through it alone but I could not find her had to run good
ways to dock to catch the launch where Kay arose to join me had had not an inkling
it seemed which put the right odd crick in visit with maudlin solemn crowd to
leaky Arizona in dead water my unwanton charge admitted fault I was not mad I
did not get it, you were not getting much, I, did you talk to Hum, no need, some
poet animal you, a poet an animal do more than fuck I wanted her knew she would
not but she quickened that side of me in another way, what were you out on strike
against fucking too, the part that had sought reignition nonromantic intensity
got juvenated with Kay a vivid entr’acte tween Cee and the full woman love
I would meet in a month, it had to have clawed at you though to have wanted the
young one so much, I was no pícaro of twenty I managed it did annoy me
not to know her fathom it all I waited to credit a reason beyond what lay right
there, or avoided seeing, Kay might have had an unnamed lover in town I thought
one evening I glimpsed her with a man in anglo cantina, and, turned out no the
one in cantina a version of fuller woman I wanted Kay to be had tricked my own
eye, you mentioned it to her, I did not go into much was not yet ready the while
we were the doting philanthrope and arriviste I donated toward the outdoor birthday
gala she wanted to throw herself I even made up with Cee so that everyone could
attend, whose idea, mine, how did it go, well enough we talked made out on a
mat of pine needles Cee maintaining she loved me that we had both done ill which
I found hard to concede what had I done but quit a mess I had not made I let
that ride however, and Kay, it freed a lot she had no qualm, that you went into
sex again were you set to hurt the dry young thing retaliate, oh the redhead
and I were holding too much in reserve to fuck we had to avoid the word Hawaii
any mention of roommate who had only moved out as so did Kay in our threesome
I do not think she got hurt her role had involuted, she liked you might have
become attached, I had not invested a whole heart in Kay either but she had more
than one late chance I saw to it, the wet other light of Hawaii had drawn you
why not move on to Kona you were not heart-entwined what tied you to the Coconino
Plateau, I was glad the immaculate morning we flew in to be home on the dry altura
its light was mine, you wrote to Hum you wanted to work in Honolulu, an impulse,
were you still content with job on the Navajo reservation, I was but there I
did see change had to hump the van six days in a row to get three off and Indians
I knew were dead already I took an amigo Doc Don to the airport lucent afternoon
onetime medico in Kenya bush to learn when I arrived at clinic he had gone down
minutes into flight a monition not to dally much longer, end the strike you mean,
I had to was not that clear in my thinking, rid you of all the wrong women write
anew in the light of what you had found, get better not so wearying work at least
I wanted to edit I read the ads sent in an app or two one job Kay nudged me toward
a local not-yet magazine turned out was a con, what, oh the talkative man that
promoted had meant to fund a quick run to Vegas nothing more he did get money
none of mine Kay had a notion to be on masthead typed my résumé when
they caught him I talked to police did radio interview it made me sick, and her,
no one could let the wise one down but maybe I had with Cee I do not know one
night I drove the redhead home and she came out of next hut a muted hello not
liking to see us alone together, you were Kay’s patron, in fadeaway now
I had wanted a wraith not been in love, awaiting the next woman, with Meen in
Oro Valley the dark Em ever out of reach I might have turned to Mia light quick
dragonfly on the trail who worked in psychotherapy had told at onset of Cee it
would not go well but Mia even then unwilling invalid was in throe of neoplasia
when I returned from Oahu it would eat what little matter the wiry darting woman
had had and not take long I mourn her warmth, the which Cee lacked, my madcap
knew that Mia a rival was onto her had a notion to join me on final visit did
not work out the doc said no too many were coming going in room I minded the
notion anyway had to look at Cee what manner of human would crow at a deathbed,
one you had loved were fucking, no when I got mad she would fellate me that was
it we were awane, how had she reacted when Kay moved in on you, had gotten jealous
and said I made too much of her then come to awe young dominant one to join her
woman retinue, Cee won you in the end, I only marked time toward it with her
nor had I ever been Kay’s aim, you had hoped to give her a job on the not-yet
magazine what did Kay want of you now, she did not say but a chance to do the
intimate remained we hiked with El and visiting jocund man up mountain were two
couples that seemed dream-made to be together affected Kay who had to act the
mated woman the moment demanded it, one of the club outings, well
she
did not go on them anymore so nor did El and Cee, went
private liked more modest chatty walk in wash or round
a lava hummock tarrying ponderosa meadow lunch, I enjoyed
that but a club hike too even oftener took to the trail
alone, this mountain climb a departure for the women high
hard trek the man whom El had known in Carolina graduate
time had wanted but the day the mood all licht und leicht
we drifted joking up to tree end where the sun began to
lord over rock, had a picnic to waldhorn music of remote
bull elk the which El’s friend and I tried to echo,
the elk get our vote said Kay, puck man wrapped her knee
in orange rind as retort had taught young women knew how
to quiddle the immature, then at Humphrey col we met halved
brightness a whet in the wind some gathering in of cloud
were into monsoon month the last had not forgotten not
thought to plan, I rollicked on ahead over naked ridge
had no one with me to make the summit the dim air electric
I did not wait was halfway to saddle again to watch it
hit where I had been, ran through chill rain now who might
have brought a poncho, Kay wore one in a rock overhang
to bide peak warrior’s return said they have started
down and let me walk tight next to her a mate have part
of the nylon shield too late who had been wetted marrow,
light came on during mud descent, El wanted to fix us dinner
with Kay and I to each go home to change then rally at
El’s where the fun romantic amigo had camped en route
to el-ay job, an idea that would tie me more to young white
maybe warming one a mixed quartet in darken eve the wine
to candle the woman in her that needed man I might have
thought, I saw no worry in Kay she agreed but when she
phoned me at my room, may we take Cee along, I knew an
unwanton had ruined an event that so it would turn out
the man massaging the feet of Cee I trying to do Kay’s
with El mad-weepy walking dog on the road, she had conned
the math afraid injected the discord element Cee or might
have ended the evening in man arms mine the other love
couple at it too, had put a woman friendship on the line
to ward a virginity, or did I have it naïve wrong,
Kay might have meant to come tween El and roué man
no more than that her heart invested in the woman, I would
have time to think when I got ill cold mountain drench
bronchitis wrought me low a weakened walker driver had
to while in my room did not see any of Kay the women who
did not check on me at all, men made and handled tools
were tools to her she had but women in her life I thought
had known she even wanted them no insight needed we had
been niece and uncle at play were friends now what hurt
was having a young friend ditch me, I wambled the Navajo
land to country music drunken wail the Indians wanted on
radio a pity theme to myself then went to a doc got antibiotic
that restored the world provided me legs the élan
to join the retinue at coffeeteria who welcomed uncle patron
in as if I had not been out were aswim in dim live trio
new-age music of the living I could not hear what she said
to me, by chance or design we would meet in the long autumn
to kuka kuka had an almost plan a jaunt to watch cowrite
about the gaming old in Nevada, went nowhere, once we rode
to a smoky redneck diner edge of town and I turned frank
which had not been our wont, said I need to have latitude
I do not want to be another superficial concrete man, with
Kay my meaning, oh, the hard child eyes told only what
I imagined that she more knowing now a wise twenty-two
had begun the retrench would all of her head to the women
scrimp the men, I did know what to think at Halloween fète
when Kay and Cee came made up in hotpants booted a hooker
duo and she flirted around the clubman host who took her
at the look paid horny heed at eve’s end the riant
madwoman in bed with me then Kay too who had retreated
in worry hurt said it’s Dan he’s got the wrong
idea, that what she had done to Hum mere me in Hawaii to
Dan that night was an act a parting hurrah to man-lust
dream, did not matter, I was retrenching in Zorba had seen
the movie heard the music everyone had, not read the words
the oppression they tolled before wide nature, once more
there sounded within me together with the crane’s
cry the terrible warning that there is only one life for
all men that there is no other and that all that can be
enjoyed must be enjoyed here, a mind that heard this pitiless
compassionate warning they went on would decide to conquer
its weakness and meanness its laziness and vain hopes and
cling with all its power to every second that flies away
forever, would try to overcome own weight in a Zorba dance
I might have thought of Kazantzakis’ preachment to
the young I had had to youthen to get
but
did you need such a warning you had clung to the women
had you not given each second its twittery due, like a
bird without reflection what I needed now was a mind to
write the time had come to love the dance in contemplation
not doing, to gain back some of the weight you had carried
in North Dakota, no, the onymity, I would not be leaden
again seek minor local fame would work tred mountain would
ready to do it all alone, what did you aim to live on the
van job, I had quit in October nothing else in view but
even with the Hawaii jaunt the price of a car I had a lot
of change remaining, you got a car, vee-doubleyew used,
why you have said you needed no means to get away you were
already there, my hike range had expanded I had to reach
the remote trailheads the club had driven me to it would
not have done relying on them anymore I hoped to go even
farther once in a while to Escudillo Chiricahua or the
low desert, doing it all alone, maybe, you were a man in
juvenation which would have enhanced your want did you
mean to carry on without a woman dejuvenate, to find content
with the wild dryland were a woman along on the trek or
not, you were not young indeed, juvenation had been the
florid stage of a megrim not real that amused me at the
time so many in the club went through it were spelled by
wandy Kay, who had enchanted you as well, I still wonder
at her I admit it, did anything happen, I had gotten a
job at the local yew and Kay, job at where, the university,
a yauld true lifelong nonacademic were you not, I hate
a campus but innocent proofreading I would do it was half-time
left me rest of the day all week and Kay the redhead and
El who worked in the yew were glad Kay wanted to meet at
cantina an evening celebration did the choreography when
no one came I went home would hear she had not told El
had misdirected Cee or me the Hawaii flea market over again
I was mad demanded we talk in other dive I chewed on recreant
protégée said she had done it to hog attention
who only waited me out with cold child eye no try to explain
no memory of flirting Hum the thought returned on my rage
I had never been mad at her would in time apologize the
way I had said not what, the end, when Kay got tired of
a man she would ditch him mean I had seen it what happened
with me too typical, and the woman who had fucked you,
Cee became an advocate that knew no wrong in young one
did not matter I was content at the yew had found a good
new love went ranging wider in clarion light that had made
me its own I had moved to plateau to do all of that I needed
no more, except to write, I began a novel at once an angry
thing to do with North Dakota my firing and a unique love,
did it go, well
Back
|
