Sacramento River Days
If we utter the names of the creatures we see,
then we will become a cartoon of them,
riding out bikes along the trial by the marina. My two sons and I stop to mock the gulls
in their idiot flocks, taunting them with their
"Mine, Mine" all day long. Aha, there is
Secret Squirrel, skulking across the sweetgum's
branches, then hopping into the trash can
to fashion some futuristic gadget. His brother,
Rocky, flies with his trapeze tail flowing,
escaping the traps of Boris and Natasha.
I see Daffy Duck crossing the parking lot
wisecracking about the weather and
giving us lip about being a road hazard.
One lone egret stands at the water's edge,
elegant as a white plate - no cartoon
to complement it - and we stare at
its slow motion, pretending
the grace it would take us to go
down to the river and into the river we dive
down to the river we ride.
I got a job as a teacher at a college in the community
but lately some classes are cancelled on account of the economy,
so we ride our bikes to the tourist spots,
roll in low gear through the Old Sac streets
and past the boardwalk traffic buzzing by
the windows of the tchotchke shops. We grin at
the homeless guy's dog, sure that it's either
Scooby Doo or Hong Kong Phooey.
It's an afternoon of cartoon classics and
bikers' thunderclaps, Harleys signaling
freedom with every engine revved.
We wander around, the three great scholars
of the three stooges. "Wise guy, eh?" I say,
when one of my sons gives me a flat,
the other one's pockets crammed with
taffy he jacked from Candy Heaven.
The day is perfect and stupid as a dream.
We'll remember it as the day we created
one of the world's great penny-candy thieves.
Now will this memory come back to haunt me
will it haunt me like a curse
Is this dream a lie if it hadn't come true
or is it something worse
that sends us down to the river
and in the river we spy
down in the river is the time of our lives
down to the river
my two sons and I
down to the river we ride
We ride somewhere between a cartoon
and a rock and roll anthem - aimless,
patient, insisting on our place that we
have made in the Sacramento River days,
not far from the confluence.
Love it. I've definitely taken one too many of those taffy candies from Candy Heaven before- in my formative years, of course. This poem is so evocative - make me miss home a lot. I love wandering along the Sacramento River and Old Town. My parents and sister are all together up in Ashland this week, so I can't help but miss the family a bit. Writing papers instead of going to plays is a little bit less fun.
Anyways, Kahl also told us a little about what he does in Sacramento. Apparently, I've been living in Sacramento all my life and there's been this amazing literary mecca hiding in the city called the Sacramento Poetry Center. They have readings and an open mic every week and they've been around since 1979. How did I not hear of this before? They need to have a fan page on Facebook - I feel like that's the only way I find out about everything these days. Kahl also publishes a blog with some of his work.
I should be writing, I should be writing, I should be writing: the mantra of today.
A little something I worked on for class today. I'm no Tim Kahl, but still:
Concerto
I walked along a silent street
with my slicker and a cane.
The shops were closed, I chanced to meet
a cello's nervous strain.
Among the litter and the leaves,
a beat up leather case,
a man who listens and believes
with lines upon his face.
He played his orchestrations
with a solemn, eager brow -
and only beggars, thieves, and I
do live to tell it now.
Coming Up: There's an event going on on campus next week called Enough is Enough - a campaign against societal violence. A film I directed and some poems I've finished are going to be a part of it. You should definitely come check it out. At the University of the Pacific on April 6th, you can see the student art show all day. You can find the full schedule here.
Lots of Love and Support the ARTS!!
Caitlin
