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Boat Nearby
If I were to tell a simple story
It would be light, love, forgetfulness
Light a place to find love
A place where forgetfulness reigns
Where new friends are made daily
Where meanness, competition, gossip
Fall by the wayside
A light in love for travelers
An actual caring for the other
If I were to tell a complex story
It would include death, superiority
Among those walking slowly
Would be speedsters, lost ones
If I were to be moonlight on a river
Grace, quietude, stillness would reign
To cross the river would be a bridge
With no doors, no arms to hold
For each reason has an allowance
Each light has a location
Each light asks not for recognition
If I were to tell a simple story
Let the love be light near a bridge
A place to live in harmony with water
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the ache
my wife is my love still & ever
after meeting her 22 years ago
at papa bach
after calling her on the phone &
saying "you are lovely"
after taking her, with my son, a
dozen red roses
trembling to touch her
under the eucalyptus trees
her body white as emotion
we made love on russell avenue, in
a second story room with a breeze
running through the palm trees,
the open window, the beaded curtain
we made love in denver, grand rapids,
east & west hollywood, in a cabin in
big sur
we married 9 years ago
her breasts are water by the river
until it all dissolves in her
10 2 99
last day in july
a statue of buddha, with yellow
flowers in a vase, in front -- white
l.a. dodgers cap -- blue l.a. dodgers
cap -- white panama hat -- photo of
holly & me on our wedding day, cat
buddha, photo of mother & daddy,
the big picture: 250 l.a. poets in
front of beyond baroque photo
by l.a. times photographer mark
savage, front page "metro" section:
holly & i standing in front row --
brown couch, love seat, 2 rocking
chairs, 40 biographies --
photo of holly's grandmother, mirror
harry's notebook, holly's journal --
l.a. home (east hollywood) -- brown
curtains -- 150 watt light bulbs --
large male cat sleeps on other end
of couch -- l.a. where holly & i,
both from nebraska, met in the
poetry world, went together, fell
in love, married, grew old; l.a.
where i made a living as an actor;
where holly taught high school, now
teaches in our home; l.a. where we
formed with 4 fellow poets, cahuenga
press, 20 years ago; l.a. where our
friends: actors, poets, teachers, li-
brarians, film & tv directors, live;
l.a. where my son dylan was born;
la. where we eat chinese food at
hop li, steak at taylor's, buy fresh
fish at farmers market; l.a. where
we see the dodgers play at chavez
ravine, where i watch the lakers
play every game on tv; where
holly & i have been active in the
poetry community for 40 years; l.a:
observatory, skylight books, griffith
park, fountain avenue, silver spoon,
t'ai chi, camaraderie of actors;
bless our home our city, our origin
in nebraska, our love & residence in l.a.
1:22 A.M.
I heard her breathe
I watched her breathe
She breathed Allen Ginsberg's "Sunflower Sutra"
She breathed Wallace Stevens Collected Poems
She breathed top deck Dodgers Stadium behind home plate
She breathed recipe for yeast
She breathed farm wives baking loaves of bread
She breathed writing in her journal
She breathed Echo Park hills
I heard her breathe prose poems
I heard her breathe asymmetrical rhythms
I saw her breathe her last breath
I hear it now
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