poem of the day 09.30.15

cleveland interlude

calvin calls talking mad

something about cleveland

and have you seen….

have you gone…

so we’re west on pa turnpike

passing all the vast pa farms

with stand-up cows grazing in bowing grasses

does standing mean rain or no?

these silly superstitions we make to explain it all

calvin smoking my cigarettes

talking about relationships

i tell him i still haven’t figured out

the end of mary he loves some laura

we hit cleveland off 77 north

really cleveland is no bigger/smaller than pittsburgh

hit e 9^th street north harbor complex

lake erie stench glass pyramid rock and roll hall of fame

$13 dollars of blood and sweat money for

and have you seen…

have you gone….

did we even last an hour in there?

music doesn’t need a hall of fame need just be heard

we walk lakeside street dying of hunger

i tell myself i’ll remember cleveland

as gray city smoke stacks mills along the river

shuffling people with heads down waiting for forever buses

just another dirty city dead on sunday afternoon

rubber stamp sculpture blues outside their library

calvin stops everyone on the street

asking for open restaurants

tired clevelanders ending weekends

they don’t know what’s open they smell the pittsburgh on us

euclid street comes to us like a dream

big italian festival with $4 dollar sausages and $2 beer

cleveland girls walking around in pre-summer sex strides

filled with food with girls we walk in wonder

talking excitedly these young lives we’re living

two old friends feeling comfortable

in cleveland for no other reason but to be

calvin tells me great secrets

that i’ll never repeat here

or by christ even in heaven

if there really is a heaven

when this circus finally ends.