Saturday, October 13, 2007

First of all, this is a poem based on a photo I found in a depression-era book. It shows a man in a saloon with a kitten next to him, in Craigville, MN (which may not be an actual town these days, I'm not quite sure). I love this picture because it says so much. I wrote this a few years back. It is one of my favorite poems that I have written. Here is the link to the picture.



http://www.old-picture.com/scenes-rural-america/002/thumbnails/Craigville-Minnesota-Saturday-thjpg.jpg





Kitten


The topsoil was thick with drought

It can make a desperate man thirsty



Thirsty for rain, thirsty for hope, drink

Craigville, MN in early October



Solace appears like light inside darkness

Rich men come to drink their money away



Farmers come to drink the drought away

On this night, no one understands



The barkeep mops up the remnants of fallen whiskey and vodka

Everyone has left for their homes, but one man takes no hints



His slurred speech has driven all listeners away

Can't they see, he has a reason?



Corn turned to smut and death

Wife turned into ex-wife



Winter is looming like silence at a funeral

October will soon harvest his depleted spirit



Desolate home now plagued with time

No one will call on him



Except for a sympathetic kitten

Who is also thirsty



Nudging his forearm

Saturated with drought

House servants to Shocking corn to Buddy Holly

Hey all,

These first two are an interpretation of Forestville, MN in the 1890's. The third one is about Buddy Holly. I hope you like them.



A Moment With Nellie


A late 19th century house servant, yes

but she cooks better than the old maid.


Hungry gentlemen like myself

come in from the fields.

She can cook six meals every day.

I make it a point to finish her

every fried tomato

every undercooked potato and

every last piece of raisin pie.


Whether precisely measuring flour for bread

or decorating the kitchen table,

I notice her every action.

I'm usually the last gentleman to leave

her kitchen.


Today she smiled at me.

No one else was in the room.




Declining in 1899


It's a good job, I am content with the $1 per day, and though the town is smaller than it once was, I am still happy here. I was in the fields all day shocking corn with the draft horses and you know, only during harvest time do I enjoy the sunsets in Forestville. The locals sitting on the porch eating tin wedding cake and drinking coffee are constant during this time of year. I know everyone here and they know my shyness only exists on my exterior. I don't hold back here, I can say what I want, within good taste mind you. The garden looks vibrant and maintained in this valley surrounded by oak. The river doesn't power the rundown mills anymore, but we are reminded by the sound of its current. Spare the greed and spoil the humble-natured; all 30 of us are spoiled with a good-spirited community. Maybe, when the smaller something gets, the more it is appreciated. I am afraid of what neighboring Spring Valley does with their 1,000 plus residents. Do they ignore eachother and live in selfishness? Do they even appreciate the railroad and the cheap prices it brings to their village? Do they have enough space to relax when the day is through? (long pause and a sigh). Well, I'll say with the trapped dirt under my suspenders, the band playing old union songs, the sun shying behind the tree line, her blushing skin and smile off in the distance; yeah, I thrive in this declining town.




Mankato Winter, 1959


They left for Moorhead

8 days after they played their radio hits

where the outside walls were of stucco and pink.


With no carpet, just dance floor

teenagers and college students crowded even the doors

of the Kato Ballroom on January 25, 1959.


They played on Chestnut Street

to a packed crowd ,

and for a dollar fifty you could see


The Big Bopper, Ritchie Valens

and Buddy Holly,

on the tour called

the Winter Dance Party.


After playing on that snowy Sunday, their next stop

Eau Claire, then Montevideo then St. Paul.

Day after day, they played another town until


the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake on February 2nd.

Monday night for a dollar twenty-five.

"Dress right to feel right," written on the left

of the billboard.


The next day, Moorhead received the bus

but not the plane

while Buddy's guitar neck

angled inches

above Iowa snow.