Tuesday, April 15, 2014


Here's a poem that originally appeared a few years ago in Bellowing Ark, a print journal that went out of business. Hope you enjoy.


I know it’s not popular
or even politically correct
to (still) like him
but  when my father’s great ambitions
were to have enough time on saturdays
to mow the lawn
and watch college football
Hemingway gave me men
who left conservative America
for adventure
because of course it couldn’t be found there
and causes they actually believed in
fighting the ultimate father figures
trying to protect countries and people

they went alone
were comfortable with that
didn’t talk a lot
though spoke fluent italian spanish and french
and always met beautiful interesting women
trying to do what was right
even if it was also for themselves
but that was possible
and if they came back wounded
or not at all
that seemed to be a given
even to them

and things were things
a big fish was a big fish
Kilimanjaro was Kilimanjaro
the hills in Spain were not like white elephants
what was important
was what was felt under the surface
and unlike my father
he trusted me
to be intelligent enough
to figure that out myself

and if ultimately it wasn’t all real
(and I didn’t care for the great white hunter phase)
enough of it was
and if Hemingway had his weaknesses
and if maybe he gave up without a fight
(though if you knew your mind was going
what would you do?)
he had a good run
and was maybe no more worse
and much more interesting

No comments:

Post a Comment