Five Poems by DeWitt Clinton

 

A Simple Zero Sum Conundrum 

 

Two (or 2 if you like) take away One, (okay 1 it is) usually 

Results in the happy arithmetic of 1 (or One) and no one 

Really has any business, mathematically, to say otherwise, 

But in other universes, such as ours, where two live as one, 

(1), the absence of the other (other 1), either suddenly or  

Prolonged, results in an altogether calculation of not ever 

Understanding that which has been in place for so long, so 

Anyone knows if one takes away half of what was whole,  

The whole is now not a whole of two, but a questionable   

Whole of one, and yes, you saw this coming, right, how can  

The one be whole when the new one whole used to be, or  

Shortly ago, a twosome, not a onesome, as who in their  

Right minds would look at two and think one, but to continue,  

Can’t we have the lovely comment that so many make  

Even if It’s uncalled for, for what do on-lookers really know,  

But as you might expect, even though appearances are not  

What they are, even despite that, someone looking from 

Afar will say, smiling, aren’t they a lovely couple, holding  

Hands like that, arm in arm like that, smooching in places 

We usually do in private, but of course, that’s a whole  

Different conundrum of what the onesome is doing  

Not as a twosome, but as something someone might  

Say, they’re whole, not apart, at least not in public, 

But now, after staring into the grave for who knows how 

Long, there’s only one going home, and the comfy  

Greeting of Honey, I’m home, doesn’t seem to appeal 

As it once did, though there is comfort when a pet 

Awakens or stretches or shakes in such a way that 

A pet may think you are planning a walk, or a feeding, 

But really, you’re not, and now, even though you’re  

A one, there’s so much in the house, in drawers, 

In closets, in the basement, on hangers, on extra 

Clothes closets, on chairs, well, someone else is 

Living here, of course, but of course, someone is 

Not also living here, so let’s see where we are 

So far, as this will continue until the one, one day 

Just isn’t going to know today is another math 

Problem that no one will solve except all those 

Who once knew the two, then the one, and  

Then, oh please, you did take arithmetic, yes, 

So two (2), minus 1 (one) equals one until the 

One subtracts into not another, but yes, that’s 

Right, and it’s not even zero, just an anti-zero, 

So that’s where we’re going, even though none 

Here like the numbers, even though the numbers, 

Always, and again, always are always right, right? 

 

 

Troubled 

 

Knowing you, you’ll probably ask where the heck am I now 

Though I’m even wondering about where that might be 

But somebody out of the blue just asked where are you, 

And of course, that’s probably me, wondering how you’re 

Doing out there, cold as hell, as some might say, but of  

Course, that’s ridiculous as we both agreed that was some 

Fabrication of the Ancient ones, who wanted a place to go 

To when and if they succumbed to living far too long, but 

I’m just wondering how you are doing, especially as I heard 

You wondering about in my lonely old brain, but just so you 

Know, I’m pulling through, with the help of mighty friends 

Who say nothing about why or how you died, and that’s  

Quite good, in fact, for I have no idea how that happened 

 Myself so I appreciate the vague innuendoes, if that is  

Acceptable to all out there, and just exactly who is all out 

There, for sometimes, I’m just sitting where I’m sitting, 

And of course, I know I should be out and about making 

A way toward our lovely Lake Park, but even if I did that, 

I’m quite certain you’re not coming back, even though 

You seem to visit occasionally when I’m least expecting  

Visitors, and I’m surprised that you’re even calling so late 

Though it’s quite understandable, but just exactly how are 

You making these calls, as I’ll admit they’re quite disturbing 

As someone has reminded me you’re long gone, way out 

In the universe, where ever that might be, and who of course, 

Knows anything about where anybody goes when they leave 

As you left, just, well, it’s so hard to try to visit how you left 

That afternoon, not talking a bit, not breathing a bit, not  

Moving at all, heck it was almost as if this was your last day 

On earth, and I just walked into your room, not our room,  

Just your room, and there you were, reclining, mouth open 

For just a bit of air, but no air coming in to you, dear, as we 

Discovered you’re gone, as in out of here, as in gone, gone, 

Which none of us knew what that meant, and a gentle figure 

Arrived with a stethoscope though now I’m certain everyone 

Knew you’d left for good, but now we’re going to try to prepare 

You for the event you never thought might occur that you’re  

Already gone, out in space, as some say, though heaven is  

Such a speculative wonder as we talked about it quite often 

Long before you left us all, and then, well, we waited and  

Waited and waited as it was dark into Shabbat and no one  

Was able to come and take you away for a long restful night 

In a place I’d rather not even think as a final B&B final home, 

But there you were, out of sight, perhaps in the basement, 

Alone, as you often were, left alone on the gurney, waiting 

For a final burning just as your requested, and now, months 

Later, I’m still wondering where in the universe are you? 

Please let me know as you can tell I’m quite troubled by  

All This.   

 

 

On Fire 

 

Right there, right there in the middle of such a long blathering 

That no one imagined could go on longer and longer, but of course, 

The words just spilled out, over and over, more and more, and then, 

Out of nowhere, the beautiful, the one phrase I’ve been waiting 

For forever, as it so perfectly described those wonderful New York 

Hopeless ones who never, ever, learned how to stop blathering so, 

The lovely, “yada yada yada,” and right then, I wanted to stop 

The person suffering so, going over and over such painful memories 

As we were all in such an angst group, going around and around  

With such tsuris inside of us, waiting our turn like children hoping 

We might be able to get just a word in to say something that will 

Help us to even be able to stand and move away from this dark 

Circle, head home, saying I’m home, anyone home, and of course, 

No one is home, as the loved one has gone, not down the street 

For an errand, or to sip coffee with a dear friend and catch-up, 

No, gone, as in gone for good, as in not here, as never again, so 

Why then, why does it do anyone anywhere anytime to say those 

Lovely coming home words, hoping for a reply, even a quiet one, 

And then, how perfect, the lonely Siamese lifts his head off of a 

Perch we set in the window for him to whine so pitifully when 

Birds fly by but, where was I, do you remember, isn’t that telling 

Us something about how we’re all down in a sinkhole, no ropes, 

No ladders, no E.M.T. guys dressed as if we’re all on fire, but 

Of course we are, but not the good kind of fire, just the kind 

That keeps blowing ash all over our faces and fingers for so long 

Now, how can we possibly stand it, and then, O god, we’re standing, 

And saying goodbye, see you next week, I can’t wait to tell you 

How I must have been a bad mother, I’m so lonely, and me, heck, 

I don’t think I even had a sentence out before someone jumped 

In and said what has been aching in her heart for so long, but 

It’s like this, over and over, blathering on, yada, yada, yada. 

 

 

Yes, Dear, Only I Didn’t Say Yes Dear 

 

Someone whispers tenderness so softly, I can barely 

Hear, then I realize it’s just me, talking to the actors 

On the screen where a father says goodbye to a son, 

And that young son reaches up to embrace who he 

Knows will not come back, ever, for now he’s certain 

Papa is another of those who are so crazily brave, 

Setting their lives on fire just to be able to resist,  

And of course, that’s what the movie is about, but 

Here I am wondering where was any tenderness 

When all I was doing was providing solace, comfort, 

Knowing but not knowing someone who I probably 

Did not offer enough kindness to, as the request was 

Simply to open the blinds, I’d like some water, why 

Were you gone so long it seemed so long you were 

Gone, but really, I wasn’t gone long, only a few minutes. 

Now there’s no you, just you whispering turning 

Me into someone who is just there to take requests, 

And then, of course, now there’s no one making  

Such requests, so in a moment or two, I’ll probably 

Leave you with what you have left to offer everyone 

Out there, but perhaps we will meet, toast not only 

To who we are now, but to all those we’ve almost 

Left behind, and now we know we don’t know  

Who that could possibly be, but perhaps we can 

Help each other remember, briefly, their kindness. 

And That’s the Way It Is* 

 

It could be angst though most of us are barely breathing 

So nothing with unauthorized entry privileges gets to sneak 

In by either spittle particles coming from someone so put 

Out by masking-up or masking-on so some of those impossible 

To see microbes, and who can see any of them anyway for 

If we could flag them, or see them as bumblebees aiming 

For some open nostril, or perhaps they’re just lying around 

On any space anywhere just hoping we’ll wipe up, gloveless 

Of course, and then, and this is what makes all of us gaga, 

None of us will know anything at all as we’re asymptomatic 

For about two weeks, and then we’re hardly able to stand, 

Some of us even crash into the concrete curbs if we are 

Trying to run away from something, or worse, smashing 

Our ways through glass doors, no longer able to know a 

Glass door needs to be opened, and we’re too weak to even 

Raise our out-of-sync hand up to the push in sign, or pull 

Sign, and some can’t even make out what in the heck do 

Either of those signs mean anymore.  So that’s the way  

It is, and experts tell us this will probably go on and on 

For at least another year, but what I’d like to know is  

Why do so many appreciate all the cautions about staying 

Safe in our cities, our streets, our buildings, our homes, 

And hope all those safety measures which somebody  

Designed for us ages ago, why do so many nincompoops 

Live religiously by those helping-life-to-sustain us all, 

And cry, I mean big boo-hoos, or worse, hissy fits in  

Box buildings where we’re all trying to get stuff to stay 

Alive, even if it’s underwear, or grapes, or Post Toasties, 

Or worse, someone brings out a penis-extender and starts  

Blowing shots all over the place, kids screaming, mothers in a  

Dither with little ones, dads thinking how are they going 

To get behind the big behind and crash into him without 

Getting some of those bugs that probably are coming out 

Of someone’s spitting orifice with millions of spittle particles 

Floating around to all those who have just plastered Julie 

And Jim Boy to the floor, hoping the bullets whiz by to  

Only attack a shelf of ladies’ things, or the pickle jars which 

Shatter into such a mess, but soon, we’ll get so used to  

This over the next century of lung killing viruses that we’ll  

Just ignore all of it, crawl out of the building, start running 

All the way out of the parking lot, only to sense a big wave 

Of something we seldom sense, and then we know that’s it. 

 

*Walter Cronkite’s sign-off of the evening CBS News

DeWitt Clinton taught English, Creative Writing, and World of Ideas courses for over 30 years at the University of Wisconsin—Whitewater.  Recent collections include At the End of the War (Kelsay Books, 2018), By A Lake Near A Moon: Fishing with the Chinese Masters (Is A Rose Press, 2020), and Hello There (Word Poetry, 2021). His most recent collection was awarded the 2022 Edna Meudt Poetry Book Award from the Council for Wisconsin Writers.  He is a student of Iyengar Yoga, and occasionally substitutes as a yoga instructor for seniors in The Village of Shorewood, Wisconsin.