Too often now I stare at a screen
and try to recall what it was like
when I could easily change blank
into not blank.
Sometimes I’d make
a good thing, more often I would not.
However it ended, at least there was
a result. Back then emptiness
didn’t stare at me like an adversary
the way it does now. The challenge now
is to survive, more or less,
while fighting the whiteness of that void.
Yesterday, Aretha Franklin passed.
Today daylight is still sagging
in the absence
of her possibility.
Eighty years ago to the day
Robert Johnson passed. The moon
still hasn’t recovered all of the melody
it loaned him.
Somewhere in between them
Elvis Presley died — same day,
different song; I know people miss him
but what song we lost that day, I can’t imagine.
I’m not ready yet. If I go tomorrow
the only song I’ll take with me
is a small one, a pebble in a shoe
shaken out after a good day walking,
forgotten once the immediate pain
subsides. A tuneless whistle
to get by one of life’s little discomforts.
Right now, that’s all I’ve got.
So back into the empty white I go
to blotch it up then read the portents there,
turn them into full-blown glory. I want the earth itself
to mourn me. It may not happen. I will try.
August 17th, 2018 at 8:37 am
Reblogged this on poetry, photos and musings oh my! and commented:
August 17th, 2018 at 8:39 am
Thanks! That was quick…!
August 17th, 2018 at 8:45 am
I had faith in you and knew it was coming! You did the diva proud. Thank you. I only learned late this morning.
August 17th, 2018 at 9:00 am
Thank you. I appreciate that.
August 17th, 2018 at 9:02 am
Thank you. I’ve been following you for years and you are the best poet blogging. You are also a musician and from Detroit. The rest, as they say, is history.
August 17th, 2018 at 10:05 am
Actually I’m not from Detroit. Grew up not far from Boston. Born in NJ. Dad from New Mexico, mom from here.
August 17th, 2018 at 10:13 am
You know the line for those of us who presume… your work makes you sound like a native. I do apologize.
August 17th, 2018 at 10:14 am
Huh. What exactly makes me sound like I’m from there? Not offended at all, just curious.
August 17th, 2018 at 10:35 am
In a number of your works the way you speak about Detroit and despite the problems, there seems nowhere else you would want to go.
August 17th, 2018 at 10:41 am
August 17th, 2018 at 11:37 am
Just an opinion.
August 17th, 2018 at 10:45 am
OK…I have to admit, I’m mystified. I just did a word search, and I only have ever mentioned Detroit in three poems. I’ve only ever been there once, though I spent a fair amount of time in its suburbs at one point for work.
August 17th, 2018 at 11:39 am
Okay. I stand corrected.
August 17th, 2018 at 11:40 am
No worries. I just was surprised.