Well, for I'm closer to home or to your home
pulling my load visiting D.H. Lawrence's
shrine above Taos several years ago.
Still following the same theme, "The Man Who Rode Away."
"Above Taos now I peered through the crack of your locked door,
dead Lawrence and there indeed I see
they've got you now at last safely stashed away locked away
from the light of your dear son in the weird great dark
of your little shattered shrine with the dark brown cover
of your old portable, clenched like a jaw
upon dumb keys, teeth sans, tongue as in a mute
mask of a Greek megaphone.
Here's real proof the soul has its rages
dampened in darkness, shrine locked, booby trapped
for burglars, plumed serpent stoned
into a gargoyle Lawrence, Lawrence, bearded David,
Phoenix flamed out of a mine head, ash to ash sown in vaults
and resold in America Del Norte.
We're now here now your portable seed has blown away.
Other seeds are growing, not yours Lawrence in the White
Sands proving grounds.
Lawrence, now I see you come alone
from your crib cabin all fenced in the backyard compound
of that big caretaker's house.
You stand still a moment in the still air,
your eyes have a Mexican look turn
South over the arroyos, ahora y siempre.
Winter is coming.
You have your tickets, you have your blue denim jacket,
you have your crazy Stetson.
Your tin Phoenix tacked to a tree drops
in a gift shop window.
A mistrial wind rattles the pine needles of your bones."
[APPLAUSE]
That reminds me I went up to see the D.H. Lawrence Shrine,
it was locked the day I was there
and I could only peer in through the door.
And Robert Creeley said, "See there's his crazy Stetson."
That's where that line came from.
His wife I believe is buried across the doorway,
I mean in the ground.
So my memory may be wrong it's been four or five years.
But it seemed to me you had to cross over her
to get to the poet which is often the case with living
poets I find, if you can get past the wife,
you might be able to talk to the poet.
I don't mean to be derogatory to wives
like Kenneth Patchen's wife guards him very lovingly.
And he needs it.
He's a great American poet who's very sick in Palo Alto.