I left Genevieve’s on Sunday at 9 PM, backpack in one hand, bag with empty Pyrex dish in other, swore at Shorewood’s sparse yellow streetlights as I walked to my bike, plunked plastic bag with Pyrex into bike basket, hefted backpack onto back, turned on blinking head and tail lights, dug into upper left-hand pants pocket for my key chain, it wasn’t there. Dug into all six pockets. Not there. Felt from the outside, dug into the insides, still no keys. Looked on ground. Couldn’t really see. Must have fallen out of pocket somewhere. Returned to house, feeling foolish.
A few years ago my friend Doug offered to help me plant, care for, and eat from my garden.
I take an issue that matters to me, and I run with it, pun with it, play around with sounds and meanings, let my mind dance to the rhythm, until I've got a poem. I have no idea ahead of time what I'll come up with!! And then I keep modifying it. Here's the YouTube of a possible final version of GOVT OF THE CORPS, BY THE CORPS, FOR THE CORPS, an issue that matters to everyone, even to those who don't yet know it!
Where have I been these days? All around town, sometimes even beyond the boundaries and into Milwaukee, Riverwest, Bayview, or pedaling on the bikepath to some sort of predetermined destination. Or dancing at the free concerts in the parks.
Arms and legs bare, the two coeds sat directly on UWM grass and smiled at each other as they chatted. I slowed my bike. Would they glare at me or thank me if I said something? I kept going. The usual Pesticide Application Keep Off the Grass signs were posted, block after nauseating block, and one stood not far from the girls.