Skipping About

Early on I was in repossessions and collections at a bank in New York, a job filled with spiritually rich people who each day radiated happiness. NOT. It was a profoundly miserable job for 364 days.

I am experiencing retirement and enjoying a new kind of lightness, one very different from 40 years ago when I left that dreadful job. I was attacked in a bar in Beacon, New York by the brother of a girl, Linda Hatt was her name, whose car I had recently repossessed. I was hated by a lot of people. That was a good job to quit. I hitched to Florida, flew to Costa Rica and spent 4-5 months working in the jungle, a really big improvement. First poem written four weeks ago, the second written 40 years ago.

             Skipping About

            As a young man
        I ardently sought out
        a solid position in life,
              paved with all
      the very best intentions
    for the safest destinations.
      Now, having dismantled
      the edifices of ambition
             I scamper about,
          a light footed rascal.
                    I will trip 
            the light fantastic
         sipping from this glass
               of fluted levity.
              For who can skip
          while carrying a brick?
             Disburdened thus,
       I peer into small spaces
        and I make funny faces.
         I nap when I’m sleepy
           just as I did before
         all the paving began.

               Cassis-4/23



           Right Again-5/1983

  Entering manhood I derailed
onto a sidewalk in dress shoes,
          jacket, vest and tie,
              the uniform of
         the number chasers.
             I spent my time
       on things of no return.
          So I returned home
and walked paths I had forgotten.
The green brushed against my boot
        And my boot was dark
            with neatsfoot.
        Untied and divested
         I am quick and light
             and right again.