Tuesday, August 20, 2019

Wandering Rocks

Totally confused about locations.
Where’s Virginia Village and Florida Avenue?
I lived here in south Denver two periods of my life—
high school near Yale south of my La Quinta,
and undergrad when I lived near Louisiana—
in a nicer house that time,
the one thing my mother was ever satisfied with in her life—
she moved to the hospice from that house
thirty years ago.
What a perilous walk north over the freeway,
pausing to try to understand the traffic,
the sixty-ninth year of my life
worth nothing to these hurtling vehicles.
The Starbucks I found on Google turned out to be attached to a Safeway,
so here I am with my 16-oz dark.
Took a long walk earlier today too—all the way from my La Quinta to Yale,
past the YMCA that Google led me to, where I did yoga for thirty minutes—
then back into the hot dry (smoky) Denver sun,
not walking past the high school house on Cherry,
but eventually finding my way back to Evans
and a nap—
that whole walk taking only twelve thousand steps on my Fitbit.
But before I got to the YMCA, I made this voice recording:
So I’m walking in Denver
And I see a strange ditch
Running under a walkway
With a path beside it
I walk east on the path
Away from the mountains which I can’t see
Because trees and houses block them
Anyway it’s very hazy today.
This ditch makes me
Realize again
How little I ever learned
About Denver Colorado
Even though I lived here for
Oh I suppose a total of six or seven years
When I was in high school and college
At that time I did not have the walking habit I have now
I stayed in my room and wrote
Instead of speaking poems into a voice recorder 

No smartphones then
Remembering myself in those days
I lose patience
And wonder how
I ever managed to grow up and become a mature adult
To the extent I ever did
When I was so poorly grounded
In my surroundings.