The Tree of Life Rejuvenation Center (Patagonia, Arizona)

Just

Turned
Onto
Rejuvenation Road
After turning my phone voice recorder on

The Tree of Life Rejuvenation Center
For real

There’s a labyrinth
The sign says

I’m a little wary
Kind of reminds me a little bit
Of one of those wacky 
Fake medical setups
Where people go for direct
Alcoholism drug addiction
Treatment
Vulnerable and gullible
They’ve got money
Nothing else
That doesn’t describe me
But I’m walking up the road anyway
Don’t know what I’m going to get to, though

So I’m trudging on up this road...

My right hip is starting...

[Howl]

Don’t know what I’m going to get to
There wasn’t...

[Howl howl wind]

So I...

But I am getting a little out of breath
From all this walking uphill here
A lot of knarly brush
It’s still just mid-March
Winter in southern Arizona
But I’m looking to be rejuvenated
No
I never had any intention of being rejuvenated
Before I came
To the Tree of Life Rejuvenation Center

Now it says Caution Speed Bumps
But I’m not driving, so I don’t think
The speed bumps were intended for me

[Trudge trudge trudge]

[Howl howl wind]

Hills a bit...

I guess this might not
Be the season
For rejuvenation
Don’t know
When the rejuvenation
Sessions are scheduled for

There was a long adobe gate down there
A closed gate
But it was easy to get in by a path
On the side there

Still trudging

[Howl howl wind]

I don’t know if I’ll feel rejuvenated
Once I get to the top
Whereever that might end up being
But I am a little bit afraid
That some scary-looking, tough
Goon
Maybe wearing a straw cowboy hat
Probably a whole cowboy outfit

[Crash]

Will spring out at me at some point
Stick me with a hypo
And then trundle me into the house
Put me in a bed
Rifle through my wallet
Take all my insurance cards
Bank account cards
Yeah yeah
They’ll probably give me some kind of truth serum
Make me reveal all my passwords
And account numbers
My social security number
And all my other private information
Then they’ll empty out my bank accounts
And send me on my way

I won’t...

[Howl howl]

Connect...

[Howl howl]

Private property...

[H-O-W-L]

I don’t want to...

Nah!!!

You can hear the...

It isn’t very cold...

Staff Parking...

Here’s a cool path...

There’s the cafe...

I guess I’ve arrived...

Not responsible for theft
Or damage to vehicles

      WELCOME TO
   THE TREE OF LIFE
REJUVENATION CENTER

[Howl howl wind]

Be stuck with a hypo...

[Ripping Crashing Howling wind]

But then after I feel fairly sober
And the DTs go away
All the squirmy lizards and pink snakes...

Well here we go...

Don’t know whether
I can walk down
Here...

Plain and simple...

Truth...

Don’t know whether the Rejuvenation Center
Is actually in business
It doesn’t look like a complete ruin
Very interesting cactus
Sign says casitas down the road
I suppose I could record my voice
And take pictures at the same time
But afraid
To get my camera now

Maybe this here is the labyrinth
The thing about a labyrinth
You can't find a way to walk out of it
And now
I’m a little worried
That I’ll never 
Be able to
Myself...

Leads up to a shed
And then there’s a teepee
And there’re the casitas
The casitas are actually teepees, it seems...

That could be...

Really windy...

[Howl howl wind]

I can hear some kind of chain rattling
But I don’t see any cowboy in a straw hat
I don’t know why the cowboy would have to wear spurs
I think the cowboy is just loony
They use him as a goon
To take care of troublemakers
Unwelcome visitors
To the Tree of Life Rejuvenation Center
People who come up here
Without really intending to be rejuvenated

Yeah, there’s a co-ed sundeck
Well, that suggests
That most of the Center is not co-ed
They keep the men and women
Separate mostly

I love the Rejuvenation Center
It’s really cool!
Exciting!
Not a soul here
I love the Black Swan too,
But all the black swans seem to have already
Flown the coop

Don’t know what I’m not seeing...

I’d like to use my camera now
Except it’s too bright to really see anything
So I’m not going to have any pictures of the Rejuvenation Center

Here we have guest
And staff only
Couple of sconces
Well...

I guess I could walk on farther
But if there are programs in progess
I certainly don’t want to disturb anybody
Or keep the rejuvenation from being successful
For all those unfortunate souls
Black swans
Who come up here
Like me
To sober up

I think this is a fantastic place
This Rejuvenation Center
I like being here
But if I take pictures somebody will see me
Through a little peephole somewhere
Then they’ll really be on me
That loony cowboy’ll
Really be on my ass then

Oh well...

It’s beautiful up here
At the Tree of Life Rejuvenation Center
Really nice, I have to say
But I have to walk down
Everybody knows that
Turn off the recording machine

Something that sounded like
A step behind me...

OK here I go

[Howl howl wind]

[H-O-W-L]

[Bup]

Villanelle: Bupkis mit Kaduchas

I’m awake, and I'm feeling all lively and horny!
I look at my phone, turn the radio on.
Can’t make up my mind to do nothing this morning!

Some days I wake up all sad and forlorn-y.—
Those mornings, I might think the world is a con.
But today I-um just feelin' eager and horny!

I once had a girl, but our love died aborn-y,
a love that I never could travel beyond,
so I just can’t decide to do nothing this morning.

“Your hijinks are corny, not to say porn-y!”
the smart people say when I’ve got my rag on
and I’m feeling especially lively and horny.

I swept all the floors, then I left without warn-y:
Don’t save a kiss for me, honey, I’m gone!
I can’t just decide to do nothing this morning!

If I just had a boat, I would ride on my pony
And my bo-ut would carry us hither and yon.
I feel inexhaustibly lively and horny,
but I can't set my mind to bald bupkis this morning!

Quartz (for Robin)

Best bird-

spotter?—My wife,
Robin.

Hiking Ramsey Canyon, near
Sierra Vista, Arizona, Robin spotted
an Elegant Trogon.

Best rock
to see on a hike?—
Quartz.

Hardness
index of Quartz?—
(7).

(1) Talc (2) Gypsum (3) Calcite
(4) Fluorite (5) Apatite (6) Orthoclase
(7) Quartz (8) Topaz (9) Diamond.

My mom’s folks had a big Quartz crystal.
Family lore—it lost its tip when used as doorstop; great grandma
scratched grooves in it with her wedding ring.

Never found actual
crystal Quartz in all
my hiking years.

Transparent or gray,
amythyst, blue, citron (yellow-to-brown),
smoky, rose, or milky.

Saturday, up Carr canyon, after
the Mexican jays, Robin picked up a tiny Quartz—
six-sided, vitreous, white.

The word "Quartz" may be derived from "querch," meaning "dwarf."
Malicious mountain spirits transform precious diamonds into worthless quartz.
But Quartz is a precious gem to me.

Remembering an Acid Trip

My first was the heaviest

We went up Flagstaff Mountain out of Boulder

After ingesting each 

Half an orange tablet

Two Air Force Academy zoomies 

Drove us up

Let us out three hundred yards or so 

Above the canyon floor

Already cold early evening

Early May

Air swirling around

Testing our vulnerable young limbs

Halt again and again 

To reconnoiter

Smoke a cigarette and ponder together 

The extent of our remaining descent

I then as now thinking 

I must take the lead

When I have no compass

My friend Clint patient and kind with me

I didn’t even have a coat

When we got to the bottom

Ticks

A skunk

A dog howling loose on the far side of the canyon

We searching 

In the dark for the lid

I got the DTs

Supercilious blue-light-bulb face

Burned into my optic nerve

Clint and I hugged for warmth

And now suddenly

I can feel

Clint’s hard chest

Smell Clint's

Unwashed shirt

Not Technically a Skeleton Yet (Poem Spoken Into a Voice Recorder on My Phone While Hiking)

Saguaro
Twittery twittery twittery

To my right
Cough
I’m selecting skip silence now
Big saguaro cactus trees all around
Big old
Fat
Fat fat

How do you describe a seguaro cactus?
Kind of like a gigantic okra standing upright
Lots of prickly pear too
They’ve got purple prickly pear
Back in Tucson.

Wild!
Saguaro cactus
Cholla too
Like what we had in Pueblo where I grew up

I’ve already left everybody behind
500 yards up the trail
Here comes a group
Water bottles and hiking shoes
Pink. black, and green shirts
Sun glasses
I don’t have sun glasses
Can’t keep track of the damn things.
Lots of people with camera equipment
More dark glasses
Orange shirt, lime-green shirt
Shirt that says, HUK West Coast Fishing

More twittering
There’s a bird up there
If I were with my birding group,
I would stop and try to find out what it is
Or they would and I would wait for them to be done with it
But they’ve sent me on my way
Because
My yappy-dog company
Doesn’t help them with their serene birding
Occupation

Here comes a jogger
Green hat
Purple-striped shirt
Sun glasses
“Hi”
“Hi”

Kind of a sandy wash to my left
Think I’ll walk up it
Nope, too sandy for my sandals
Have to kick sand out of em all the time
Get back on the main trail!

Hiking is always kind of boring
Trudge trudge
Even when a poem is a hike
Or a hike is a poem

Thousands of saguaro cactus to my left
Prickly pear at their feet
Millions
Can’t count ‘em

Javelina

“What’s up that-a way?”

“OK, thank you.”

So I guess I can go up to Seven Falls from here
I don’t think I’ll get lost
I’ll be all right
For a little while longer anyway
Not technically a skeleton yet!
Feeling my soft
Belly-button area with my fingers
Underneath my Youth-Traditional-Song tee shirt
Beautiful green bird printed on it

Snatches of talk from two ladies passing
Now a red-haired running woman
Blue sunglasses, orange shirt
I smile at her.
She smiles back
“Morning.”
“Morning.”

Wow! here’s the Sabino Lake trail apparently
Wow!
Sabino dam is like half a mile.
Looks like a bit of a walk
Not too sandy
Glad I caught that!

Here I go
Walking up into the saguaros
All reaching their fat green okra limbs to the sky
With their nubbly
Extended saguaro growths
Not too many
Maybe one two three
Four on each plant
Huh, there’s a saguaro
With something like a
Barrel cactus attached to it half way up
I don’t know it’s probably
I’m sure it’s 12 feet high
At least

A lot of jaggedy rocks
Marks from soles of hiking shoes
Like my own Teva sandals
Nobody could persuade me to wear
Hiking boots, though, instead of my Tevas
Life’s too short for that kind of shit!

Here I am on the trail half a mile up
There’s the road only thirty yards down to my right
Boring
Hearing my
Trudge trudge trudge trudge
Hiking is mindless
Everything about how I’m feeling
And what I’m seeing around me
Is boring
Saguaro cactus
Tramp tramp of my Teva soles
Human voices drifting from my right
Sight of the trail up ahead
Craggy
Southern Arizona hills
Higher than I expected
Everything
Makes me want to turn off this recording machine
And just stop talking

But I don’t
And the reason is
Because
To stop here
Or anywhere
Would really be too much like
Ending a poem

“Hey”
“Javelina
“Right up there”
“Great, thank you”

“Javelina?”

So where is that javelina?
Is a javelina the same thing as a peccary?
Those little cactuses look like peccaries kind of
Don’t even know what they meant by “javelina”
Could look it up on my phone
Love to see a peccary though
Cute little guy
Stout bristly piggy.

Walking is getting a tiny bit challenging
But my legs are strong from doing yoga
Still—
Why don’t I stop talking?
Turn this stupid recording machine off
And just try to clear my mind?
Clear my mind by filling it
With more saguaro
More prickly pear
Some javelina maybe

Ahhh...
Yeah!
“Yeah
“I see the javelina!”

What a sweet thing!
“Wow, yeah!
“I have to take a picture
“Have to take a picture of the javelina!
“Ha ha ha ha
“Thank you, that’s really exciting!”

I don’t know if the machine is still on
Trudge trudge trudge trudge
But I’m going to sit down now
Yeah, I’m gonna sit down
“There’s a baby javelina behind that mesquite bush
”That one’s its mamma!”

OK
The javelinas can be
One watering stop
On this poem-hike

Up at the Stone Pump House

What I mostly feel now is fear

Not too much fear
Sixty-six-year-old man
Walked up [CHIME] here in my Tevas [CHIME]

Aha,
Just got a message from Robin
Maybe they followed me
Maybe I see them way down there on the road

And I’m all the way up here
By this funny stone structure
At the top of this bluff or whatever you call it

So now I have to walk down
It’s pretty sandy
I’ll have to go very very slowly

Yup, now I'm sure my party
My wife and Jim and Linda are down there
Looking at the javelinas I messaged them about
The baby javelina
And the mamma javelina
So I have to join them now
But should I tell them that I’m up here?
I’ll send them a picture maybe

So here I am
Heart beating
Bones balanced
Like a barely-rooted tumbleweed
That hasn’t started tumbling yet

The End, My Friends

Definitely in performance time now!

There are my feet in front of me
I’m scooting down the scarp on my butt
Because it’s too steep and slippery to walk

They saw me
Robin and the others
I think I see them too
They’re coming out of the woods
I guess they aren’t too worried about me
As they shouldn’t be

So I’m going down
I’m going down
On my butt
Is my wallet still in my pocket?
Yes
Are there snakes in my path?
Doubt it.

How much longer how much longer?

What a tiny tiny infinitessimal
Moment this is!
The beautiful light, light
Lime-green cottonwood branches
Down there by the stream
By the dam
Where I was an hour ago

My God!

Thinking about all of my new friends
Who make my life so exciting now
At my advanced age of 66
Which isn’t really that old
But it’s pretty near the end of life
For me
I’m pretty sure.

Bring it on
Bring it on
Here I go
I’m going to slide back down until I find something
I can hang onto with both hands

How crazy is this anyway—
Writing a poem about talking into a recording machine while hiking?
I don’t care
I don’t care if it is crazy!
At the end of your life can’t you be crazy if you want to?
Jesus Christ, what is there to
Why, what is there
What is there to save yourself for?

And that sounds like the end of a poem again
But fuck it, I’m not gonna
I’m not gonna end this poem
It’s gonna have to end itself at some point
I don’t even care if I keep recording it
It doesn’t make any difference
I can turn the recording machine off cause I have to
But the poem will continue

Even after I die the poem will still be going on
The saguaro will still be here
Or these saquaro will be skeletons
And other saguaro will have replaced them
Or maybe the saguaro will be long gone
And something else will have taken over

Yeah yeah yeah
Blah blah blah
Enough already!
Love you!
Love you guys!
Love you all!
Love everybody!

I’ve talked enough

Bbllpp

The World Is Too Sad, You Said

The world is
too sad,
you said.

Skeleton Checking in from Tucson, AZ

Well, I cracked my skull

On the underside of a
Metal stairway here at the
Resort where we’ll be staying,
Which I don’t
Know the name of yet

But I am hearing birds, and it’s very
Very pleasant, breezy
Clear blue skies
Well, not clear
Fluffy
Fluffy clouds, and so on
Just like
You would expect

Couple of unattended dogs
Leaping in the unfenced yard
Don’t know why they’re loose like that
You don’t see that in Minnesota

Well, OK
And there’s an orange tree (that is,
A tree with oranges on it)
And there are three palm trees above it
And a
Slate roof
And-a there’s a

There’s an evil-averting skeleton mosaic
Right by the door
I don’t know why I assume that it
Averts evil
Apotropaic, I think, is
The word that I remember
From my Anthropology class
Back there forty-five years ago

I’m going to take a picture
Of that beautiful
Skeleton mosaic
And I’ll probably post it

Beautiful day today
In Tucson

Thank you

1.30-Minute Soliloquy

A winter day of course

Walking
To my friend Mike’s
For breakfast
To help him move some boxes
He says

To the west toward the river
The sky
Is opaque blue
Behind the trees

It’s winter
I can see the squirrels' nests in the trees
I’m counting five
From where I’m walking
On either side of the street
Now
Seeing more
Two more
As I get to the corner

The neighborhood is full of squirrels

I think they’re
Squirrels’ nests not
Birds’ nests but I’m not
Positive

Then
As I look up higher
The sky
Gets
Whiter

Villanelle: Amygdala and Die

When we think about the brain, the amygdala,
we figure we're all programmed from the start—
not like our Savior said, or the Apostle Paul.

Paul said we’re free—true, we took a fall
when we tried to put the oxe behind the cart
and learned too much about the amygdala,

and our crops failed, and our wine was gall,
and raising wine grapes was an interred art,
and it wasn’t actually the Apostle Paul

but our Savior Himself who said: Bathe, y'all,
in the blood that flows from my sin-cleansing heart—
my love has cancelled your amygdala!

So we heard and did, and tried for small
changes, not big. We dwelt apart
and steered clear of our Savior (less ‘Postle Paul),

till what came down like a blazing cannon ball,
bringing salvation-grape-juice—jars of it?
Not Mr. Lizard-Brain Amygdala,
but Jesus, on a hell-bound train named Saul.

Villanelle: Nonsense Mantras

God, what nonsense I talk to myself!
like a worried, distracted duck
quack-quack-quacking to itself.

I talk nonsense to myself—
you’ll see what I mean—the dreck and muck,
the rank nonsense, I talk to myself.

How much nonsense can the self
churn out before its cherished stock
runs out of nonsense churned by itself?

how much nonsense for myself?
how much wood can a woodchuck chuck—
ignitable cellulose of self?—

myself a silly nonsense-self—
if you get on this horse, they’ll buck—
headlong nonsense for yourself!

You’ll say, joker, fool yourself!
That’s when I’ll finally be in luck.
Nonsense mantras of the self.
God, what nonsense I talk to myself!

Unlooked-for

In ’77, I think, I got an efficiency
with my roommate Dave
in Dinkytown north of Bierman Field.

Can’t remember the street name.
When we were moving in,
I was sitting by myself in the room,

on a box, I believe.
I looked up, and there was a beautiful
almost-adolescent, long-haired

orange-and-white kitten.
What a gift! I thought,
and then, by ones and twos,

the rest of the long-haired
orange-and-white kittens arrived—
surprize after surprize—

to the number of six.
They checked me out for a little while,
then sauntered away.

Villanelle: What Song Should I Sing Today?

What song should I sing today?

My friends send me youtube videos—
I get out my mandolin and play.

No one sent Lay, Lady, Lay—
I hacked out that song years ago.
So what song should I sing today?

Gimme Shelter’s one, I’ll say,
writhing like a garden hose—
it's just a mando-shot away.

Wheel’s on Fire in the key of A,
Shag, Mamma, Shag—some easy blues—
those’ll be songs I'll sing today.

Mercy Seat by Nick Cave—
I gave my love a blasted rose—
but I get out my mandolin and play.

Years I discovered I was gay,
I listened quite a lot to those
songs I can still sing today.
I get out my mandolin and play.

Small Town, Wilhelm Müller

from Die Winterreise

The dogs are howling,
their chains are rattling,
the people are sleeping
in their beds,

dreaming themselves
what they don’t have,
all things
whether good or bad;

and early morning,
it’s all flown and vanished.

So now, so now,
how they have enjoyed their portion!
And they’re hoping, they’re hoping
that something will be left over,
for them to discover,
for them to discover
in their satchels.

Go on, howl,
you roused watchdogs,
don’t let me rest
in my slumber hour.

I am at the end
of all dreams.
What am I doing
among the sleepers?

I am at the end
of all dreams.
What am I doing
among the sleepers?

Im Dorfe, Wilhelm Müller

Es bellen die Hunde,
es rasseln die Ketten;
es schlafen die Meschen
in ihren Betten,

traumen sich manches
was sie nicht haben,
tun sich im Guten
und Argen erlaben

und morgen fluh
ist alles zerflossen.—

Je nun, je nun,
sie haben ihr Teil genossen,

und hoffen, und hoffen
was sie noch übrig liessen,
doch wieder zu finden,
doch wieder zu finden
auf ihren Kissen

Bellt mich nur fort,
ihr wachen Hunde,
lasst mich nicht ruhn
in der Schlummerstunde.

Ich bin zu Ende
mit allen Träumen,
was will ich unter
den Schläfern säumen?

Ich bin zu Ende
mit allen Träumen,
was will inch unter
den Schlafern saumen.

Thoughts on Religious Faith

When you believe, 

is it God
that you believe in?
What is God
a name for?

How do you talk about religious faith?
What was it that brought tears
to my eyes in choir practice tonight?
I don’t remember.
Does it matter?

Faith—belief—is a state of allowance,
of letting be,
leaving all possibilities open,
not ruling anything out—
as if you could be the rule-maker!

Doubt is defensive—
you don’t want to be taken in.
Going through life as a doubter
was like going through life clenched.

How do you change from doubt to allowance?

Belief is an unclenching.

It’s scary to be unclenched,
to be without defense—
like an opened carcass.
The world can eat you up.

...

Bernstein’s Sanctus has the line,

Pleni sunt cæli et terra gloriæ tuæ.He’s left out the word maiestatis
(The world is full of the majesty of thy glory),
but leaving out majesty
seems to make thy glory,
both queer-gendered and plural—
a big improvement for me!

Already There

Suppose someone, maybe my lover, 

says “I’ll love you till I die,
meet you on the other side!”
and I say, “No,
I don’t think you will.”

For my lover, believing
that they will meet their loved ones
on the other side
may count for their
entire life.

How pedantic would it be
to say, “Well, literally,
we won’t meet.”
I'd be missing the whole point,
because my lover is declaring—

Our love is such
that we are
with one another
on the other side
already!