the song of

Jim Harrison

by Roberto Lavidez

I’m an

old man

surging

upriver

on the

back of

my dream

horse

that I

haven’t

seen

since I

was ten

out of

almost

nothing for

practical

purposes

nothing

then back

as ancient

children

to the great

nothing

again

the song

of man

and water

moving to

the ocean

nothing to

console

the morning

but the dried

grasshopper

on my desk

who fell apart

at my

powerful

touch

I see today

that everyone

on earth

wants the

answer to

the same

question

but none

has the

language

to ask it

in truth

I am puzzled

most in life

by nine

horses

many of us

live full term

never seeing

the bullet

the empty

plate of

hunger

the invisible

noose of

disease

a few years

back

I began to

lose the

world of

people

I’ve spent

a lifetime

trying to

learn the

language

of the dead

of course

we are

condemned

to life

without

parole

until the

gods usher

us in to our

executioners

who live in

a hot

windowless

room

always dark

you walk

through

doorways

in the mind

you can’t

walk out

then one day

you discover

that you’ve

learned

to fly

were it not

for the new

moon

my sky

would

collapse

tonight

so fed by

the waters

of memory

on a

cool night

there is

a break

from the

struggle of

becoming

I suppose

that’s why

we sleep

we want

to sleep

a long time

not forever

but then

to sleep

a long time

becomes

forever

doom

should be

ashamed

of itself

it’s so

ordinary

happening

to billions

of creatures...

would

I still

love the

creek if

I lasted

forever?

©robertolavidez2014