This transitory home is domicile
To gas lamp buildings lit like bric-a-brac—
And, blazoning scripted signage, its track
Of squiggled neon sings its beacon style.
Backlit by night, the city’s surge decrees
The surf and wash of California dusk
And beauty visits with a thousand vacancies.
The hotel’s silent windows blindly ask
The passing sun to make each pane a bed,
Each frame an invitation and each sill
A resting place where passing fancies perch
Like gulls that gather faith in wind to spread
Their wings. So San Diego’s pilgrims will
Divine each door a way, each room a church.
Great poem, thanks.
It’s true that if you spend all your money on travelling you can’t afford to feed the gulls when you come back but you try putting up with the attention that I have here.
I feel a Tale of the Dead coming on…
BJB – take it away!
JOB
Again, terrific poem, but no mention of the infirmary?
It’s a subtext – there in the rhythm, the varied, funeral rhythm…
Thanks BJB!
JOB
Nice! I especially like the windows asking “the passing sun to make each pane a bed”.
It was a relief to write it – haven’t written anything in six months…
When you coming out to the farm? Make a date.
Best,
JOB
And of course:
“Well, God is in heaven
And we all want what’s his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I’m gazing out the window
Of the ST JAMES HOTEL
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell …”
My brother in law, the liturgist who showed up at the WPC, listened to his first BD album from soup to nuts – I recommended Freewheelin’ – just because I wanted him to start out on milk before he went to meat. It was a success – he said he heard all these songs before and never realized they were all written by the guy from Minneapolis.
Anyway, he’s most likely hooked. God help the world.
Best,
JOB
Good work!
I just missed you in Wisconsin, unfortunately. Professor Hren just got a job in Oregon, and since his wife and the new baby weren’t up for the cross country trip in the car with the two older kids, they hired a professional to help with the driving—namely, me.
I begged to go by way of SG, bringing up OLG as a worthy site for the chillens to see, but Herr Hren was hell bent for Bismark on the first day.
Maybe this fall though, no joke. I’m going to Atlanta and maybe Florida in the Fall, and maybe I can swing a return stop at Chicago.