billy clubs michigan avenue chicago police/national guard riot 1968

had that weathered look
like a hard oak or mahogany
marks like notches
wielding sweeping wild
circular motions
floodlights and shimmering bayonets
armored legion columns
like orders being followed
clubs ramming ribs
all the way through to the insides
we finally ripped away our shrouds
and kissed desperate
in a cloud of tear gas
like lovers before the gallows

we tried walking

not running
hands clasping tightly
left only with dignity
eyes wide open
a tactical retreat
deep into the dark of grant park

the police streamed through

grabbing stray bodies
like lost deer from a herd
wrapping up and dragging their bounty
into trucks and busses

convention delegates

looked on from the other side
of michigan avenue
hiding in their hotel
some cried
all were witnesses

the nights rolled into days

we lost & found each other
many times
our lips stayed true
as our new skin

--- e b bortz

earth note 610

it takes a deluge

near the equator
to cleanse the body

no one can hide

in a pinhole
out on the open water

my reflection

in the wake
brings up grit & blemishes

before every sunrise

the piper demands payment
there's a price for ambivalence

--- e b bortz

earth note 609

the river rises

and leaves behind
driftwood
stripped
of all protection
knotty elbows & kneecaps
like a tai chi puzzle
stretch
extend
homeward

--- e b bortz

one of those online ads

said
submit your best poems
and then take a break
have a thousand cups of coffee
and we'll get back to ya
we have all these professionals
sitting around waiting to evaluate
     even you
we'll even give you some pointers
vouch for your credentials
on your next graduate school application
give you the agent-inside-track on the
poetry-biz
there's a lot more to this
then meets the eye

we lead the industry

in contact lenses down the toilet

don't get yourself in a tizzy

about mixed metaphors and verb tense
don't worry about running out of time
we can help you with your next draft
every career has its downtime
maybe you've hit bottom before
and since you've stumbled on to our ad
maybe you should just take this
     as a sign

--- e b bortz

earth note 608

the search begins

by looking under every leaf
     yes
this is a lifetime

in every allegory

there will be a lesson
     no
the answers are not easy to find

the rain often breaks

the membrane
     yes
the body often carries a message

if there's a third eye

will that guarantee vision
     no
there will always be another leaf

--- e b bortz

earth note 607

i'm still learning

to claw my way
up through the ash & maple
above the trail
below the bus shelter
the hill feels like it's falling
from the sky
and all its undergarments
white fluff and then metal gray
the leaves weep
looking for a way out to the avenue
the daylight will only take you so far

after that

you'll need to get down on all fours
the ground is shifting

--- e b bortz

by the time we got to norwood colorado

we were feeling separation anxiety
     from the black canyon of the gunnison
a rock wall can warm the body organs
bring it back to life
when all else is cold

the messages are all there

if the eyes let you in
when the bees insist on their turf
there are no tourists
or spectators

--- e b bortz

earth note 606

a sidewalk that closes

can't be rolled up

if you want to learn to fly

follow the pelican

as an alternative

find a trail
without a name

--- e b bortz
 

earth note 605

sunset august
minnesota itasca county road 8
leads you west toward the scenic highway
mapping it all out in my mind
     if you keep a bicycle rolling
     the mosquitos will become frustrated
     they'll tell you that much in their wings

there'll be some small lakes

if you're lucky
     a soaring blue heron
loons
& geese
crappies jumping
a-frames aging

it's hard to let the summer go

guess you could say
this is somewhat of a rehearsal
take the blue with the clouds
while you got 'em

touch every bit of the light

--- e b bortz

earth note 604

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a deer run will only take you so far

after that it's all the sweat of your brow
or the odd or lucky conjugation
of a made-up verb
that'll bring you to the finish line
this being near the convergence
of the oliver high school cross country course
     1962-1966
which i never mustered
therefore can't brag about

by the time i reached sixteen

and could coax my dad into letting
me have the car for the night
riverview park wasn't for running
but for making out

and now

who knew it would come to this
a captured thought
in a morning downpour
walking not running
a million steps gone missing
     still looking to liberate
     a verb

--- e b bortz

i'm not gonna swallow the bitter pill

as long as i can rage from within
there's a month of sundays difference
between what passes for truth
and whose shoe really touches the road
a long distance friend once told me
to leave well enough alone
find out where the squirrel hides the nuts
leave the rest or the nest to the robins
when you hear the voice of the cicada
many years will have passed

--- e b bortz

earth note 603

a switchback
might seem like a long way around
like the one off marshall trail
called kilbuck
in riverview park
where there were once stone masons
building streetcar shelters
along perrysville avenue

today the rain runoff

looks like a small fast creek
still glistening after the storm leaves
long after the trail remembers
where to give you footing
where to turn and twist
inside and through the arms
of the hillside canopy

--- e b bortz

it's never too late

even if it's long past time
for us to carry our poems
to the street
speak it out
in a public space
in everyone's ear
right smack dab
between the marble halls
and the tone-deaf
     power elite ain't no cliche

you shouldn't be imagining the worst

it'll turn in to an ultimate writer block
built around your cerebral cortex
before you know it
turn your head away
     now

stop slamming into the wall

i know the bus schedules

let me know
where & when to meet
the poems will merge
from many hands & mouths
the grass will open
like new found metaphors
swarming to the end of the horizon
     free

--- e b bortz

questions for a hot summer

are we waiting for iran to be bombed

before there's an antiwar march on washington

is the twitter generation ready for the draft

does anyone in the trump house read....farsi

is there a doctor in the house

what is congress waiting for

can i support the green marchers in iran

without approval

is there any way to grow enough flowers

to stuff all the gun barrels

have the holes in your boat been patched

will you carry your neighbor with you

--- e b bortz

we were just fifteen

walking back from our loafing stoops
on columbia place
to her stoop on flocker way

not sure how it happened exactly

but when i brought my clarinet
over to the second-fifth presbyterian church
on brighton road
and placed the sheet music down for
     stranger on the shore
i never thought for a moment
there would be someone
who would sit down next to me
and sight read perfectly
the piano accompaniment

but she did

without hesitating
sweat rolling off my fingertips
her fingers
gentle
bridging the keyboard

--- e b bortz

earth note 602

more than one

generational change
down on river road
from the babushkas
ketchup & pickle plant
to the river trail
bicycles     kayaks    
rowers     runners
the old people still fish
     a few young ones
     push baby carriages

cars with bike racks

fighting with each other
looking for a parking space

the suburbs have shoved

their way into the urban

the condos have pushed out

the pork bellies & cow tongues

the river listens

then moves on
from the auctioneer cadence

--- e b bortz

earth note 601

black clouds filling up

close to dusk
a lone chimney swift calls
before the downpour

--- e b bortz

earth note 600

itasca county minnesota

a few miles up the road

from town
in the middle of a rock pile
and broken glass
someone thinks they have a bead
on bob dylan's dream
even if they never cleaned
creosote out of a wood stove
or saw the inside
of a log-built sauna

there are crappies chasing

shadows they thought
were dragon flies
the great blue heron
takes a final swoop
before the summer thunderstorm
and even out on spider lake
white birch bark becomes your parchment
taking on a whole new meaning

of what it means to write a story

in the middle of a memory
in the middle of a rock pile

--- e b bortz

earth note 599

marshall trail

smooth gray pebbles

small sharp cinders
a few loosely sunken cobblestones
indigenous black topsoil
a mixup like a stew
spread by unnatural selection
crossing over mountain bike tire tracks
where the trail divides and pushes on through
like a reprieve from a heat wave
a large doe
springing to her feet
long leaps across
oak      maple      ash
leaning into a soggy hillside
to catch the sky
deepest blue

--- e b bortz

earth note 598

little colorado river

for every dry wash

on the high desert
there are lost communities
parched bodies
hidden beneath the flame
perceptive beyond explanation
way beyond
the modern sun worshippers
and expensive sandals

the original people

grew squash
made decisions together
knew the seasons
nurtured families
made music
told stories

of the future

--- e b bortz

earth note 597

a tentative breeze whisks tears

up the avenue
their own state of mind
like droplets being saved
     the fireworks are over
yet they haven't really begun
hunger can't be satisfied
by a cup of rainwater
as pure as that may be

--- e b bortz

earth note 596

sparrow drying out

on a wrought iron railing
hummingbird
trickster

--- e b bortz

sweet lorraine

toledo, circa 1955

walking right in on a

count basie concert
in that old hotel ballroom downtown
not far from the porcelain enamel plant
& department store
my stepfather johnnie & mother ida
worked at
taking us to experience what i now know
as the backbeat
of every clapboard house we ever lived in 
my mother's tongue casserole
endless pots of chili
on the stove
ready to be reheated
when we all came together
for supper
and johnnie would play
sweet lorraine
one more time
on the victrola

--- e b bortz

columbia place

northside pittsburgh, circa 1962

soaking up the smell

of cabbage and sausage
goulash
stale beer spilled over
on the stoops
at the end of the alley
screen doors slamming
out of row houses
off-white doily curtains
blowing through open windows
of peeling paint

this old world

about to change
forever

john f kennedy

rolling down brighton road
a fixed patrician smile
genuine nod
from the back of a convertible
a village comes out 
hands waving
sometimes a fist

--- e b bortz

earth note 595

east fork san juan river, colorado

1.

hand water pump
comes up dry
even as the big pines
emit a freshness
from the tips of their needles
cold as a mountain summer
on the earliest morning
just beyond the solstice
a quiet wave
leaves the valley

2.

friday night camper gathering

at the host site
the fire cooks peppers & tomatoes
on a stick
someone brings homemade ice cream
melting through a few stories

3.

tracing starlight back to the tent

the eyes of a deer flicker
grass rustles
bed opens

--- e b bortz

earth note 594

there's a heat wave

tearing your insides out
your heart might end up
beating in the palm of your hand
at least you'll put it on ice
to keep it running

down over the hill

where the trail begins
there's a green cluster
dying of thirst
below the outcrops
a small shift
and it'll become another landslide

no one is guaranteeing

a reprieve or salvation
no one is picking a fight
no one has a magic key or code
everyone is looking over their shoulder
what started out as a weather report
is now ending indeterminate

the last pool of water

turned out to be a mirage
all the easy riders are gone
leaving at sunrise
no one mentioned a last supper
or a route number

the wind just picked up

like an oven door opening
find your best walking shoes
the crows will get you as far
as the graveyard
where the stones stay cold
     after that
     find a neighbor
     & follow the big dipper

--- e b bortz

earth note 593

this one

came from many places
before it landed
on the page
when there's no sunlight
to wake you
there's always
a cold sweat
it breaks out
and leaves tracks
though you never notice them
right away
pretty soon there will be shadows
at the base of the maples
that seem gentle
but you know you've been fooled
before
each leaf casts its own profile
never duplicated
the mourning dove will speak
the wind will rise and carry it
until you notice

--- e b bortz

earth note 592

seoul, 1990

peace will come

when it's not
bought and sold
in a weapons flea market

--- e b bortz

earth note 591

koh samui thailand

the sea is green

then blue
just as the last wave
of the old year
skips a beat
uncommitted
to any future forecasting

a long-shaft fishing boat

is out looking for easy pickings
as the equator
seems to shift
an imaginary line in the water
to a sun
burning through

--- e b bortz

recovering notes from the deep, part 18

pittsburgh circa 1967

my roommate on jacksonia street

who worked at krogers on the northside
had a knack for bringing home t-bone steaks
just as we were running out of everything else
     that was edible

no questions asked

and then usually there would be some partying

sergeant pepper style
and some of the girls
from our high school graduating class
would come over and we'd talk about
those still around and others who drifted away
or got drafted including those who died

the living room had bare floors that we sat on

and a sliver or two but a good gas space heater
open flames just like you'd expect
from a falling down 3rd-floor walkup

the doors this is the end

haunted everyone who came over to see us
this was a kind of anthem for those of us
living on the otherside
where we painted the bathroom walls & fixtures black
where there were no dorms
and class schedules
only hard labor
or tedious production-line-piece-work

months passed and my roommate

always restless
suddenly decided to rent a truck
and move to the west coast sunshine

on the last night we laughed and rapped

reliving our experiences
passing through the rubicon
which i thought then
could only happen once
     as i helped him pack
shaking hands like it would be
the last time
which it was
as he slipped the doors album onto the turntable
like it was sending him down the road

i never heard from him again

but pretty sure he caught
the best part
of the summer of love
probably getting lost regularly
in golden gate park
guiding groups of merrymakers
and cerebral adventurers
in and out of the free stores
crash pads
lost lovers
on their way to nirvana

--- e b bortz