poem from 1985 notebook

Quit staring at the apple
as though it would jump, screaming
from the fruitbowl, bound
across the table and attack your unprotected throat.

894 out of 899

John McCain was ranked 894th out of 899 in his class at the Naval Academy.

Hahaha! Isn't that hilarious! Presidential material, all right!

tip of the hat to Americablog.

comments on "cake the walk" version 6

When last we left our intrepid poem it had no title. Now it does. Like it?

Other than that, if you don’t want to bother reading the darn thing through one more time, is the placement of the chings. They’ve moved down a few lines so that the hand is more directly patting them out.

I think that's it.

“cake the walk”, version 6

Cake


in hedges gusts rat
from lonesome scatter leaves
scurry to clump under that

just beyond the diamond
a stone bench waits for the cloud

which straggles from the splintery bleachers
trails along fences
touches bases

at the far end of the outfield swarms
the sponsors’
painted boards and tumbles over
into bushes

forgive the cold
its hold

who wouldn’t want
my hand

there’s cloud enough left in the oaks
to drop a drop on my sleeve
two, you say, for you

I appreciate this dark
on that shoulder

all the way up
link by link by link
to the backstop’s eave

the ringing I pat out
ching ching
ching
of the hand you warmed for me

in the crowded pocket
of the jacket you put on
not wanting to

prospective titles for "cake the walk"

Not Wanting To
Not Wanting
For the Cloud
Cake
Beyond the Diamond
Cloud Enough
Who Wouldn’t Want
Forgive the Cold
Ching
I Appreciate That Dark
Appreciate That Dark
Under This
All the Way Up
A Stone Bench Waits for the Cloud
The Park
The Town Park
Near the Duckpond
A Cold Wind
Two For You
The Crowd

*

I don't always have trouble titling a poem. There are occasions the perfect title has seemed to me a line that otherwise didn't fit in the poem. Other times I've used the poem's first line, sometimes going for the repetition, sometimes displacing the first line into the title position so the poem & title start at the same place.

When Gordon Lish expressed interest in poems I sent him (this was 16 ... 17 years ago?) he didn't like the titles I'd given them. I filled up sheets of paper brainstorming new titles and finally found ones that were acceptable to him (and to me). In giving "cake the walk" a title I decided that rather than just going with the first thought that seemed OK I would brainstorm at least 20 different titles.

Some of the above I don't like at all. Others seem almost maybe. None jumps out as just right. Not right now anyway.

Any preferences out there?

comments on "cake the walk" version 5

The two couplets beginning "forgive the cold" now occupy a pivot point for the poem. I'm quite fond of these two couplets. Following the Kill Your Babies advice I suppose these would be the obvious ones to eliminate.

I haven't worked on a title yet. "cake the walk" was never a title, just a name for the Word document.

"cake the walk" version 5

in hedges gusts rat
from lonesome scatter leaves
scurry to clump under that

just beyond the diamond
a stone bench waits for the cloud

which straggles from the splintery bleachers
trails along fences
touches bases

at the far end of the outfield swarms
the sponsors’
painted boards and tumbles over
into bushes

forgive the cold
its hold

who wouldn’t want
my hand

there’s cloud enough left in the oaks
to drop a drop on my sleeve
two, you say, for you

I appreciate this dark
on that shoulder

all the way up
link by link by link
ching ching
ching
to the backstop’s eave

the ringing I pat out
of the hand you warmed for me
in the crowded pocket
of the jacket you put on
not wanting to

YES TO LOVE, NO TO 8

Watch videos of weddings at SF City Hall

comments on “cake the walk”, version four

The stanza I’m closest to excising is the duck one. While I like the way the pond places the baseball diamond in a town park, thus helping prevent the reader from seeing some gigantic sports complex, the duck isn’t doing anything much. Not that he’s gotta exactly. I’m still thinking.

“cake the walk”, version four

forgive the cold
its hold

who wouldn’t want
my hand

just beyond the diamond
a stone bench waits for the cloud

which straggles from the splintery bleachers
trails along fences
even bases

at the end of the outfield swarms
the sponsors’
painted boards and tumbles over
into bushes

we passed the mallard
making his quiet circle in the pond
while among reeds his mate
tucked yellow bill under dun wing

in hedges gusts rat
from lonesome scatter leaves
scurry to clump under that

there’s cloud enough left in the oaks
to drop a drop on my sleeve
two, you say, for you

I appreciate this dark
on that shoulder

all the way up
link by link by link
ching ching
ching
to the backstop’s eave

the ringing I pat out
of the hand you warmed for me
in the crowded pocket
of the jacket you put on
not wanting to