9.
like the meaning
was already there, all along
in the rocks he spied, at the
Mesa ridgeline,
He thought,
probably Moses
had gone up-- to see
I’m on the Path,
I’m on the Path,
he repeated hoping, to get back
by evening fall
de Kooning was 81
in 1985. That was
kind of Incredible
to Jack, thinking
there in his studio
in his overalls
scratch, scratch,
trowel, trowel.
He’d stand back to see.
“I like dat--”
He’d make it back
somehow.
Achilles was just worried
of coming down
that hill with all the tumbling rocks.
He picked up a stick,
and noticed
the FUlL MOOn
aRisIng aboVe the SierrA!
He had made a metaphor
to ward off
being gobbled
up, by that fearsome
woman, the UniVerSE.
The world had become scary to Picasso
and some thought never
to write a poem again
And it is true
we face even worse.
That pink tinge
somewhat menacing
there were many gods older
than religion,
WhO was in charge of this GaRdeN-- ?
But ourselves
it made more sense
The earth is complicated
like us maybe able to HeAL,
FOR INSTANCE
ABLE TO GET RID OF US
those MEAN ONES,
This WoodeN ChurcH
of misled words,
now a politic
For sale, to the highest biddeR.
There was always the
simPle DreAm
of what we could be-- worthless--
He kept saying,
Reduce and Radicalize
Not that simple.
He had some strange faith,
It was going to complete itself.
If Jack just kept on
11.
Crispin saw an evolution in a
Western direction,
The fragment had become extreme
and created some motion rolling
in negative capability.
Achilles was remembering how
much the abstraction
was a part.
Jack was friends with Monsieur Matisse
and Senor Picasso
reading along in the books
Bill’s painful reality.
The scribble, the painted square,
a zip
Crispin traced an American Imaginative
Disney like comic cloud
over
this Frederick Church, like reality--
of European decent.
Is there an Original spring?
What matters?
But then what is “what?”
One foot in one world, one in another
going forward
“ out of the woods and into the meadow.”
Orange SquarE and NiGhT
StuDiO!
unexpected combinations,
Bang around
and CyCLe,
12.
Forward, HO! Hoo, HoO!
It’s Summer again
as Jack turned the page.
The thunderstorms at Monument Valley
were already closing in.
The coffee and book shops
in SoHo were gone
mixed with the loss
and intensest rendezvous,
ThE sudden BeaUty.
Jack kicked the old rusted beer cans
down the road past Mexican Hat.
The Indians did their best
to wreck the place,
nothing worked
it was part of the Religion,
Jack guessed, as he
shivered in the cold shower,
he hated the tourists too.
Achilles was on that road where
he thought he found
the whole cow’s skeleton
and the black
and white warbler flew straight
through the scene
it was an amazing
green grey valley
of Sage and Lupine wild flowers,
Crispin never found it again
as it all had changed.
Jack picked some Lupine
and hung it in the window
he noticed how it went with his
Blue GinghaM PatterneD shirT
The Hero Crispin! Ha!
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