Ohio Silver Mine

 

On Easter morning,

I bought tickets to fly to Ohio

for the release of our new book

‘Selected Correspondence of Kenneth Patchen.’

I can’t get it into stores in my hometown

but Ohio is rolling out the red carpet.

 

4/25/12

Rain on the windshield

seagulls combing the air

over the parking lot

The airport shuttle only makes it as far

as Burlington, about a half hour down the road

then stops at the local station on a gravel lot

near a Taqueria. The driver explains that our

windshield wipers won’t work. He goes inside

the office, a little wooden trailer for awhile.

Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks on my headphones.

 

When the bus driver comes back to us

he explains there’s another bus but they

can’t find the keys for it. This is a comedy.

 

Meanwhile, the sky is clearing to a silver polish.

He tells us he’s willing to risk the highway

without wipers and hopes the rain doesn’t

come back again.

The bus stops at the Tulalip Casino

and a couple people escape off into the night.

The driver is nervous about going further South.

At Everett, we get off the road then back on.

I see the sights returning. We’re going North.

We return to the Tulalip Casino where we

prowl into the long parking lot and stop

beside an older silver bus with Las Vegas

on the destination sign. This is our new bus.

In the black boggy puddles beside us

there’s the sound of frogs.

The day began this way

earlier I guess the tone was set

when I left work early for the dentist.

I was getting my temporary crown

removed and a new one put on.

So they gave me the shots and

prised off my crown and then

they discovered the new one

didn’t fit. With a numb mouth

and my old crown put back on

I left for Ohio.

We finally made it to the airport at 10:15 P.M.

After a long wait getting x-rayed and examined

if I hadn’t been running I wouldn’t have made it

to the closing doors of the gate. I was the last

person to board. The stewardess shrieked at me

“Scan your pass!” The flight was rough. A rocket

to Ohio. 37,000 feet, 600 mph, it was -70 degrees

outside, but I couldn’t get comfortable.

Those little towns

flying over North Dakota

they mirror the stars

we fly the space in between

4/26/12

We made it to Detroit

just before sunlight.

 

Sleep that rushes in and hurries out

wakes me up with a start and

only a moment has passed.

Oh, but in that gone second

I was on a bed soft as a cloud.

I have four hours to wait

before the next plane leaves

to Akron. Watching people.

On the flight to Ohio, I sit next to

a man who thought I was going to

a seminary when he spotted my

 

Thelonious Monk book. From then on

we talked the whole flight. He’s going

to visit his grandchildren. After all

those years, he wants to enjoy life

and live simply. He’s been overseas,

been to China to oversee the sale

of his company. He regrets that now

all the hours he spent working

chasing money, it’s all about money.

Now he lives in a 200 square foot pre-fab

with his second wife from Guam.

He wants to fly back there with her

he showed me her photo, standing

in front of a picket fence with their

little house in Rhode Island. His family

all thinks he’s crazy, but they don’t listen.

They work 12 hours a day, they can’t see

what he’s learned, he’s not wasting time

he’s finally happy now.

Tired, I have to wait for my ride.

Tried to wait inside but outside

looks better. There’s a metal bench

out there in the air. In here the TVs

are on, talking about JFK again.

I bought an unsweetened ice-tea

from the fountain and took it outdoors.

White sky, thick clouds, breezy and cold

an Ohio flag  clanging against the pole.

Two ladies get out of a car.

They coo and say goodbye to the driver

who pulls away with a toothpick

in his mouth. A moment later

one of the ladies runs back

stops at the curb and waves

at the disappearing car.

“He’s got my purse in the backseat…”

she tells me. “I ain’t going nowhere

without it.”

When Larry Smith shows up

we drive the long road back

to his house in Huron.

Lots of trucks, the corn fields

grown low, it’s a season in Ohio

I haven’t seen for a while.

When we park at his house

I get out and hear a cardinal.

Good to see Ann again too.

We catch up on things and

Larry and I run through our

presentation. It seems good.

Napping off the jetlag

I fell asleep and woke up

in Ohio.

After supper, we drove to Cleveland.

It’s early. We cross Detroit Street

and went to The Root for chai tea

 

and coffee. Then back again

to the Lakewood Public Library

downstairs to the big room

filled with empty chairs.

 

4/27/12

The Kenneth Patchen talk

went great. Over twenty people

were there, including the son

of Jasper Wood, an artist featured

in our book. Everyone was kind

and appreciative, how great to see

people like the work. After the reading

also met Vlad the poet and he gave me

his most recent book of poems

“my best yet.” It has a silver rocket

on the cover. We drove back home

and I watched the clouds and sky

get dark and a white planet shine.

Walking the dog to see the lake

I didn’t think it would be so cold here.

Sunny though. The lilacs and dogwood

are flowering. Lots of starlings making

electronic effects and the sound of

Lake Erie roaring, brown waves

white curled and cold as winter.

At the Goodwill I opened the door

for an old lady pushing a shopping cart

filled with tall metal flower stalks.

Went to the store to get a toothbrush

something I forgot to bring with me.

The spiral notebooks I like are cheaper

here in Ohio, only 89 cents.

 

I buy a toothbrush for one dollar

and a five cent coin.

All this money, I have an envelope

stuffed with travel twenties. It’s nice

to buy cups of tea and coffee, souvenirs,

and not care what it costs…that is until

I buy two silver charms that cost $20 each.

Then I care.

I drive the Smith car to Oberlin.

I like this countryside, the road

going between farms, mostly it’s all

still winter colored. The Ohio green

is still asleep. We park in town

the bookstore is an old Ben Franklin.

There’s a glass case holding the first

City Lights Pocket Book for sale.

Everytime I come here I feel the radio in me

turning on poetry. I want to write and write.

Is it just stepping out of the routine at home

and being away from the job mentality?

Or is it this place talking to me? Probably.

I hear the birds chirping and over in a yard

a lawnmower is going.

4/27/12 2:20 P.M.

The second time to the beach

the day has warmed up, the wind

died down, the water settled to glass

in the lake. The dog and I make our

footprints along the edge of land

and leave them to the wash.

Holding a baby

that warm weight

close to you

A big feast tonight, homemade spaghetti

salad and angel cake and strawberries.

Four kids playing in a cardboard box

their voices go in and out of the house.

Washing the dishes and stacking them

clean. Once it got quiet again

we watch a movie based on a story

by Raymond Carver.

Knowing how hard it is to fly

I had to sort of struggle to get myself here.

I told my friend Eric, “They want to pay me

to fly out and talk about the new book.

It’s like being a real author.” And he said,

“You are a real author.”

At night, a train goes by.

It doesn’t have that slow roll

of a summer train, the clacking wheels

that go on and on along the tracks

with the long harmonica hello

goodbye. This train is gone quick

then it’s quiet. No cricket sound yet

it’s still too cold. They must be waiting

underground or wherever

with the rest of summer hiding.

4/28/12

A white sky, walking the little dog

a dove somewhere in the tree above

the calm neighborhood street

a vacant lot filled with the gray

round nodding heads of dandelions

Soccer fields

filled with people

swallows and

snow

Sure there’s family

things I don’t know

anything about

we go

our own ways

she lives in

that place past

a gas station

on the corner

where we turn

I have to

control time

when she shows

using a cane

to walk

Yesterday we drove through a town named Ceylon.

Today we watched ‘Footprint of the Buddha’

on the island of Ceylon. The film ends with

the slow walk of a monk in the jungle

the birds singing him along.

Bumping along the white

edge of the clouds

the sun shining on the wing

God bless

the flying mother

caring for her child

she blows and soothes

and walks the aisle

calming down

Now it’s done

back in Seattle

all the lights

like a tidepool

landing

4/28/12

 

for Larry and Ann 

& The Lakewood Public Library

written during 4 days travel

April 25, 26, 27, 28

cover photos by Larry Smith

"not to handle gold or silver"

Buddhist precept