Thursday

Something You May Know


There is something I know, something you may know as well. Small, maybe passing, no longer so important in this year. I read Donald Hall's poem Names of Horses and I am grateful. Grateful that he set down that thing I know. That he made a 36 line monument to what was a part of my young life. Something I did not set down but that stayed, all the same, on the edge of need.

Read the poet and know of the tenured Saab, the luxury of sexual excess. Read and know why we should smoke and why we praise the long and unmarked legs of the young. Read the poet for censorless tonsured longing for anarchy. Read the poet and return to the unfenced, unmapped land of dreams. Dream that you may learn to milk a goat, herd a sheep and forget the practice of smiling before mirrors. Read the poet.