Ya Gotta Rich Inner Life, Right?

Ya gotta rich inner life

Ya gotta rich inner life, right?
All yer music that you listen,
And the books ya read every night:
Symphonies inside yer kitchen.

The strength of twenty miles away
Creates a siren song that pulls
Yer thoughts on how yer mind can stray:
The things it keeps and those it culls.

Check yer rings, a tap that tells go.
So shadows of the moon through trees
Push light to sight in ways that glow,
And lift yer spirit from its knees.

A pull is stronger than a shove,
A push, a knock, or nudge that’s rude;
Failing to work on things ya love,
Prompts be damned, leads me to conclude:

The pull of all the things ya take
Destroys the push ya need to make

Kathmandu in the Time of the COVIDS

Remind me to tell you about the time I traded soccer jerseys with a Sherpa on the streets of Kathmandu while hanging out with Bob Seger and Iggy Pop. Iggy swore he could see Everest and we all told him he was high…which, if you hung out with Iggy, you knew he was. Bob wrote a song about it…good times.

Ask Jack Nicholson. I told him the story in the Dunes Saloon in Grand Marais when he was visiting Jim Harrison.

Both

Leaves tumble by as you walk through the park
to school. Crunching acorns under your feet
an organic smell in the air: mulchy,
warm, welcoming, an anchor. To the north,
leaves change to needles and firs perfume the
air—a sweeter smell that pulls at you. The
wind plays the needles and the leaves applaud;
time gushes past, like water. Both tear things
down only to build them up somewhere else.

Transistor Wind

Golden sands shifting
Autrain’s tree lined shores
Blown down love

Willie Horton who
Hears who needs a Tim Horton’s
Before the game

Cones of the white pine
Blow through Munising
Tumbling and stirring

Radio signals and Harwell
Ghosts whisper as
The fire cracks