he meant to move to Burbank California
he knew they taped Johnny Carson there
but he got it backwards
and moved to Burbank Illinois
where he ran out of money
living in a roadside motel
and started lifting pallets
in a loading bay
and the sun went down
like a wavering coin in water
every day at 5 PM
and his coworker was a woman
from Mexico with a deep voice
like an Época de Oro movie star
and one day they decided
to go west
maybe Burbank, CA
maybe Buenavista, MIC
the ugly car traverses a road
on the side of a canyon
seen at first in the distance
then up close
after the camera lens dials in
we see boulders
and rusty dust
maybe real maybe artificial
the music an electric bass
maracas electric piano
drum set a wah-wah guitar
then a cut to a kitchen interior
garish yellow-orange wallpaper
with little wheelbarrows
and fences on it
a silver toaster
and a clear vinyl
table cover
then back to the car
on the canyon road
with the music
and this goes on
into eternity
it seems
I'm 12 years old
I'm drinking Hawaiian Punch
On the front steps of my house
With my best friend
He says what do you wanna be
When you grow up
The sun has gone behind
White clouds
No breeze
Silence except for a car
In the distance
A tree maybe
A stream
Snow melt
A record needle in a groove
The memory of a dance night
A clanging high hat
A racing blue jay
A pomegranate waiting to be juiced
A repeated phrase not understood
A parrot in the jungle
Who remembers words forgotten
By the humans who spoke them
Really? he says
Yeah, I guess
Great American indie film
Where the protagonists
Walk through a forest
In Cascadia
The Porcupine Mountains
The Great Dismal Swamp
The Black Hills
Pigsah
Crooked River
Hells Canyon
Kootenai Forest
Land Between the Lakes
And we see them stepping with their heavy packs
Dipping their cups into a stream to drink
Arriving at rocks that look out
Over vast landscapes of mountains hills
And their conversation is a few words
exchanged while walking in a line
15 feet between them
The trees understanding the speech
As much as the hikers
And something is not quite right
Each time they bed down for the night
Setting up their tents making a fire
Looking up at the stars
There is more conversation
And we learn of fissures
In their relationships
And we sense that when
They reach the end
Of the trail
Their friendships
May also end
i don't know what deep purple is
i can kind of picture it
but i know it's not deep enough
or dark enough or old enough
i know the stalking 4-note riff
then i'm stuck again
a kid played that stomp of notes
on string bass
in the 7th grade band room
then we all did it
the phrase seemed complete
and not complete
i can see the smoke on the water
but where is it coming from
not from the water
but from somewhere beyond
1000 YEARS
Tree with an ancient trunk
Split gnarled curled
An ant descending
A mountain behind
Still grows
Branches draped
With olives and moss
MONTEGIOVI
stars seen through
the space between
the cypress
dogs bark
crickets chirp
a window creaks open
three olive trees
shimmer green
in a field
their shape rounded
like sea urchins
perched on a reef
a road coils
upward to a yellow
tower on a hill
three cats
are under the stairs
eyes glowing
ROMA, MONTEGIOVI
music
in kitchens
on motorbikes
italian
reggaeton
bachata
jukebox songs
in restaurant
in tuscany town
stone churches
shadow cats
cypresses sending green
heavenward
Ana y Johnny
"Io ti amerò"
b/w
Bob Dylan
dal LP
Street Legal
"Changing the Guards"
ROMA, MIA ROMA
the arches, the marble, the churches, the towers, the portals, the fountains, the old gods, the new gods, the windows of shoes-suits-ties-gloves-coats-shirts, the yellows the blues the rose the beige the black, the pink clouds of dusk, the blue dome of the night sky, the chittering insects, the strutting pigeons, the chairs the tables on cobblestone, the running underground spring water on tap in a wall, the steam, the espresso machine, the italian, the brazilian portuguese, the spanish, the english, all spoken all sent out into the night air
Say three tall panels
In a field
Of burnt scrub grass
Along the road
From the airport
An office complex
The shape of a castle
Made of blocks
Sits on a hill
Overlooking parched fields
Mechanics' shops
Parking lots for roadside eats
Suddenly wide letters
Jump out into space
JOS! GAF! (a big head
With big teeth & eyebrows
In black & white)
BONCO!
The message could be
From the walls and pillars
Along the train tracks
Of Chicago
Sent and received
We enter the city
Via del Corso
And walk to the wide
Piazza del Popolo
A strong god watching over
A fountain with more gods
A obelisk 60 feet high
Covered in hieroglyphics
Rises skyward
On its top
A cross within a circle
