Understanding
Your Air-cooled Volkswagen Engine with Regard to Agatha Christie
One
regret that intrudes
At 3
in the morning,
not
the predictable chain
of
failed relationships,
stranded
and broken on
on
D-Day fields.
Nor
the year I spent drunk,
the
divorce year where I was
Sleepy John Estes repeatedly drowning
off
the Floating Bridge,
My
daughter reaching out
As I
threw up my arms.
No,
something else.
Pernicious.
What
does that mean?
For
most of my days
I
have lacked the unifying agent.
I
didn’t see it until I was almost old.
All
those years
It
was right there all the time
In
the Agatha paperbacks all over my house,
The
stack of Agatha Christies my mother
Bought
at the church sale
one
rainy night
that
made her happy
But
interested me
Not
at all.
My
resistance like the
stubborn
will to deny
God.
In
the VW
school, long haired
motorheads
learned
the
deceptively simple
Teutonic
systems of
The
Bug.
How
to get it started
On
the side of the road
At 3
in the morning.
Watching
my friend
taking
the small parts
and
assembling the
Tinker
Toy construction
that
was the VW engine while
rain
lashed and Spirit
Played
on a greasy little am/fm radio
on
the shelf.
“Every
system-
Air
Fuel
Spark
Cables
Vacuum-
They
all work in concert
Or
this thing
Is a
slow as
as
spiritual growth
In
the modern world,”
He
said, with John the Baptist
hairy
clarity,
Vivid
eyes.
“Slow
then dead”
I
got Agatha
when
I was broke
And
alone
More
then the puzzle,
It
was the system of harmonies
a
person hears
as
life replays
While
you are going
down
off the floating bridge.
Throw up your hands.
Rotator
Cuff
The
ointment smell rising
From
beneath the ace bandage
Wrapped
round and round
The
shoulder, chest
In
aid of the rotator cuff tear,
Piece
missing, raw socket
Against
screaming nerve.
Hurts
bad with a throwing
motion,
but
I can still swing a hammer,
unload
adobes, torch rebar.
The
struggling engine, crew cab bumping
Through
the beautiful California dawn.
The
beating these trucks take.
I
apologize to Junior and Israel for the
Menthol
smell.
Here
is where you get surprised.
“It’s
alright,” Junior said, “We’ve all been fucked up.”
“What
are you, heat ointment and ace bandage? Junior asks.
“Yeah,”I
say, “it only hurts when I stop.”
“Puedes
trabajar entonces?”
Israel
wants to know.
“He
says, ‘Are you gonna work?’”, From Junior.
“Yeah,
puedo trabajar.”
“See
Israel? I told you,” Junior taunts.
Stop
right there and try to place
this
vivid piece in the puzzle.
In
the challenging, endless sky?
Cityscape
of lost pity?
In
the tangle of branches?
Next
to the Pooh Bear?
The
loving donkey?
No,
it’s from another puzzle.
One somebody else is working on.
Sunday
We
went down at dawn
and
took a swim
in
the warm arm of the lake,
as
warm and narrow as a river.
Then,
we went back
And
got ready for church,
The
boys in clean cotton plaid,
The
girls in berry coloured dresses.
We
walked down the sandy way,
Around
the shrubby corner toward
The
bells.
Creator
of the Stars of Night,
The
Holy Ghost,
The
shady church cool
Beneath
the steeple.
Outside
in the sun,
The
lake sparkling blue
Through
the birches and the
black
cherry grove.
The
dogs, ducks and geese,
The donkey brays with the bells.
Road
To Cripple Creek
Went
up the trail like 3 snails
And
camped at the log
lean-to
built against the cliff
The
beaver pond
with
rock cold
crystal
water
The
sun went down
like
a trick
stars
deep like drowning
The
fire
The
tea
that bit like whiskey
Wildcat
screaming
woke
us up
then
happily fall back to heavy oxygen sleep
Moving
past the opening
Like
an ocean liner
The
bear paws through the campfire ash
Looking
for cans
Dallas
sitting up
With
his pistol
“No”,
said Jean, sotto voce,
the
roundish bear
hulked
off in the starlight.
Morning,
Through
the green horse meadow
To
the cut and the trail
Down
to the shoebox car
Cripple
Creek
Half
ghost town
chili, eggs, and a cold beer
“In
‘Nam,” Dallas said, “I used
To
try to will myself to death.
That’s
nuts, right?”
“You’re
not nuts,” I said.
“Not
even close.”
John Harold Olson - Is a retired Special Education teacher in Las Vegas. Transitioning to being a hospice volunteer.
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