Missing Home...

Tim Kahl, a poet from Sacramento, came into class today. He had very wonderful things to say about poetry - complicated things. I'm still trying to decipher my notes. He has his MFA in poetry and does some great work where he integrates song into poetry, something he terms "imprinting." I got a crash course on systems theory and a little bit of chaos theory (oh, and a little biochem for good measure) and I just sat there in shock - and I thought he was just going to talk about poetry. I also thought, man, I might need an MFA too if I want to understand all this stuff. He tossed out obscure pop culture references like it was slang. In fact, half of the notes I took are just names of authors I've never heard of. But it's kind of fun when professors do that, because then I get to go research it on my own. Brilliant people make two hours of class so much better. And everything he shared truly was intriguing - especially for a total lit lover like myself. I loved his poem titled Sacramento River Days, integrating (or imprinting) a song from Bruce Springsteen (the words in italics). Yes, you can be jealous that I got to hear him perform it. Ken Babstock may have said, "Poetry is a vocal prosthetic for people who can't sing," but hey, if you can sing and perform poetry at the same time that's cool too.

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