Eitherwhere

If I’m not in this place,
I might be in another,
so Eitherwhere’s your ace
to save you lots of bother.

I might be in or out,
I might be here or there,
and yet without a doubt,
you know I’m Eitherwhere.

Everywhere I’ve been
and anywhere I go,
it seems I’m always in
some Eitherwhere, and so

if you’ve looked all around
and also in the square,
you know I will be found,
since you’ve tried Eitherwhere.

Why I’m Not a Painter

If this poetry thing doesn’t seem to pan out,
then I’ll see what the fuss around dancing’s about.

But then if it seems dancing’s just not my thing,
I know I’ll succeed if I learn how to sing.

Of course, if my singing results in complaints,
I could see what it takes to start learning to paint.

But then if my paintings just fail to engage,
I’ll carve myself out a career on the stage.

Though if we find actors in oversupply,
I’m sure with some work I could learn how to fly.

But if, flapping my arms, I just fall down to earth…
I’ll go back and I’ll see what those poems are worth.

Songlines

after Lauri Astala

The continents sing to each other,
the coastlines harmonize.
Alaska trills forth a glissando
flowing down California,
Mexico, Panama, Peru,
to land a triumphant bass chord
right on the coast of Chile,
only to launch upward again,
flying from the tip of Brazil
to West Africa,
with a Greenland descant
soaring above,
until the whole world
at last resolves
into a single,
neverending
cadence.

Wonders

for Bennett

What would the world be, I wonder,
without curiosity? Without the whimsy
of wonder itself? I wonder. Would the world
whirl on without us, weaving its miracles,
its marvels and magic, a maestro of surprises,
of singing silences and dazzling darkness?
I wonder. Or would it stop, with none to see,
none to sing the questions, none to seek
the answers, none to wonder at the wildness
of it all? Are we the ones, in fact, whose wonder
creates the wonders of creation? Are we
just the universe caught up in delight,
astonished at its own attentiveness?

Soldier of Distinction

from the WWI diary
of Julius M. Riddle
December 15, 1917

Later in the evening
we had an inspection by Col. May.
As he came thru,
I was standing beside the aisle,
at attention.
He stopped in front of me
and for a moment
I thought he had recognized me
and was going to extend the glad hand.
Instead, he said,
“How long
since you have had a bath?”
I told him,
and he walked on.