i let my thoughts come and go

i let my thoughts come and go

i don't stare at my thoughts

that would be rude

_______

Hat Lake

MN

LEW

he had a booming voice

a personality like fireworks 

loud applause or thunder

organizing poetry at the cafe

he built a podium with a light

out of unvarnished wood

the podium was straight and tall

master carpenter

you had to step up onto it

as he ran a tight ship in readings

scrupulously fair about how long

you'd be able to read 

poetry was his ideal and his life

he was as impressive as irritating

gracious as impetuous 

courteous singing brash

and rude vibrant gloating graceful

remembering forgetting but

never for a moment 

regular boring

or ordinary 

"joy was his song and joy so pure

a heart of star by him could steer"

'My father moved through dooms of love'

ee cummings 

Lew Gardner

1931 - 2018

there's poetry that lasts

there's poetry that lasts

too bad we can't hang out forever

get sick of each other's opinions

more than we are now

because there's something intimate

about being annoyed at your thoughts

how i derailed some of your readings

or made you cry 

-----

all night you eat ghosts

everything is normal

though we do feel beat up by sleeping

all that traveling

through billions of places

every fleck and mote of dust

super real and will be there forever 

people 

all night you eat ghosts

in the morning you shit them

*

God on a Bicycle

Out walking in the rain, I see God on a bicycle coming down the road, taking his time. He's a black man, wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt and smoking a cigarette. 

I nod to him politely, as he rides by. 

"Have a great day, my man." says God.

"You too!" I reply. We are both in a good mood. 

God keeps going down the road, I see he has an old cardboard box wrapped in plastic on the back of the bike. God might have a pair of shoes in the box, or a few books. Or a lunch. He rides easy into the storm, as I am walking away from it. 

Later, I know I'll be walking into the wind and rain, when I have to make my way back. 

-----

St Louis Park

Chung Tzu: Phantom Cup & Real Water

Chung Tzu and I are in the backyard, on the deck in the first warm sun of spring. We are facing the alley.

"After all these years, I see." I say.

Chung Tzu looks at me sideways, just past the edge of the newspaper. 

"Truly, I see."

Chung Tzu rustles the newspaper, goes back to reading. 

"I will start to stop trying." 

"AHEM!" says Chung Tzu, as if to the squirrels. "Phantom cup! Real water."

----

South Florida Street

St Louis Park