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Friday, 17 January 2014

Lunch Poem


Telegraph Avenue, Berkeley: photo by Chuck Patch (chuckp),13 September 2006

That green plastic fish in the pool
made by the rocks along the trail in Tilden
offered the typical post romantic false
getaway into the natural, perhaps
but that was then and this is a different
time, the time of no way out, too late now

This town totally ate me for lunch
but not before keeping my brain packed up 
in that swell green lunch box
for all those many months that turned
into all those many years of afterlife alas
not quite imperceptibly it must be admitted

It's a long time ago already now but oh my
I don't really know why unless it's the brain compression
the memory of that green plastic fish
or it may have been one of its several long forgot plastic rock
pool fish of many colors of yesteryear antecedents
lingers because
encounters of that sort always gave birth in me even then to

an insane wish to escape into the sky

Plastic fish along trail, Berkeley: photo by Chuck Patch (chuckp), 7 February 2010

Airport terminal, Denver: photo by Chuck Patch (chuckp), 30 July 2006

Airport terminal, Denver: photo by Chuck Patch (chuckp), 26 September 2010


vazambam (Vassilis Zambaras) said...

This town totally ate me for lunch
but not before keeping my brain packed up
in that swell green lunch box—

My favorite lines in a poem—excuse my punning here—
containing plenty of food for thought.

ACravan said...

"This town totally ate me for lunch" is a sentiment that resonates with me, unfortunately, but I've tried to find a way out by ignoring, forgetting, and looking out windows on the other side of the building or aisle. One of the windows I look through is this one, which seems like a flat, reflective screen, but is also an entry portal from my home office (an expression I really dislike; it's my only office and permits no gainful employment/life separation) into a pleasant, preferred space. So unexpected suddenly to find myself back at Denver Airport, a place I used to pass through often and still dream about frequently because nothing else looks like it, which is saying a lot for late 20th century airports. Time for lunch. Curtis

TC said...

Well, chronic acute escapism can be carried only so far... and certainly never so far as an airplane. That implication here is strictly within the limits covered by poetic license (legalized in some states, one now hears on the grapevine). But in truth I don't like airports in general nor Denver airport in particular and even worse, I'd sooner cuddle up in a sleeping bag with a plastic fish than fly in a metal tube, lie inside a metal tube, shoot things out of a metal tube, or do anything else in or with a metal tube, ever. What could have got into me... "That said..." (one of my two favourite stuffed-shirt nonce-expressions, the other being, "point being..."), uh...

And while we're at our truth fountain let's also get our geolocating squared up and talk straight, honest Abe style, and admit that we think the trail along which the green plastic fish is stranded is not in Tilden proper after all, but a bit lower down, on Strawberry or Codornices Creek, maybe.

mistah charley, ph.d. said...

speaking of 'getaways into the natural' - yesterday i visited Spaulding Hospital for Continuing Medical Care-North Shore, in Salem, MA

a relative of mine, currently on a ventilator in a medical intensive care unit, is to be released soon to a pulmonary rehab facility - perhaps this one

there is some chance she will be rehabbed enough to go back to breathing on her own

but it is by no means certain

a point of pride at the place i visited is that they have an outdoor patio with all the hookups required so the patients on ventilators can come and sit outdoors, feel the sun on their face and the breeze on their skin, admire the koi in the pond, etc - not in january in massachusetts, of course, but during a lot of the year - the pleasure is keenly felt by those chained to machines

i rode in an airplane to massachusetts, and will ride one again tomorrow to go home - like hitting one's head against a wall, it feels so good when you stop

in my current stage of life, almost all the time i spend in airports is waiting for missus charley, and that actually has an enjoyable aspect - seeing the joyous reunions when travelers are met by family and friends

TC said...


Well, all I can say is Bless the Wright Brothers if it is their work that have brought you and Missuz Charley closer together (and Damn their eyes if it was their work which, & c., you get what I mean.)

The theme of Lifetime Care is carrying the apprehensive burden of the tune sung by many a faltering senior these days -- and for that matter I've been hearing it warbled by people much younger and in much better health than yours truly (a category which at this point probably includes almost everybody).

I know it's only sensible to look the future in the eye.

The fact that I can barely stand to look the remaining few minutes of this day in the eye, for fear of what I might see, just goes to show I never had a whit of sense to begin with, I suppose.