During the Fall

When we mull over the way things are
There are distortions, faulty memories.
Things that don’t add up,
Some blame on the calculator.

All those on the road to here,
Didn’t make it, playing by rules
They never wrote. Under the freeway
Out in the great openness we all strive

To explore in youth’s inquisitive grasping
Are more cardboard houses traveling
Lightly away from order and routine
And the horizon we never reach.

Calling out in the dark,
Away from mall neon and saccharine song
Are the refuges of bad math.
They clutch remnants of a life

Now emptied of excessive essentials.
Sleeping on the streets builds character
Say talking heads who never did.
In the vast green park we all love

You must keep moving. Do not linger
In despair’s alcove or look for
Straight answers to bent questions
We no longer share with each other.

Published by William Cowan

I'm from the East Coast, have lived in SoCal and now Northern California for some years. I've been writing quite awhile, published in 1992 in a literary quarterly: "Suspicious Humanist," vol. 2, #2, (20 pages.) Best job: fm on air personality on a now defunct station, "Evening Eclectic" music show, and a weekly poetry reading show. I played jazz and free/improv I enjoyed. Read Wallace Stevens, John Ashbery, Kenneth Koch, etc. and commented on the poems. I have read once at a local coffee house. Love the Bay Area, wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I am going to appear in an east coast anthology of best new poets of 2010 by the end of the year, published in Pennsylvania. I'm reading once a month at a brewpub in Marin with a group of fellow poets. We read to each other our work, and personal favorite poems of authors we enjoy. It is a pleasure to share with a community of fellow enthusiasts.

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  1. Lia Yaranon Hall

2 Comments

  1. I love…
    “Calling out in the dark,
    Away from mall neon and saccharine song
    Are the refuges of bad math.”

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