Probably just two or three more poems.
And then read something that I hope will be entertaining,
a little short story.
Now, I'll finish with some new poems.
Here's a poem written somewhat in the style of probably
the poet that I most--
the contemporary poet that I most admire,
and that's in translation of his first book.
The Israeli poet by the name of Yehuda Amichai.
When I wrote the poem, I was giving a reading in Chicago,
and I decided that it would be quite the romantic thing
to do to take the train from Portland, Oregon
out to Chicago.
And it turned out to be the most claustrophobic experience
of my life, which was relieved only by the fact
that they had an observation car.
You know, one of those glassed-in cars, where I
and a couple of people that I met and struck up a friendship
with, could sit all night, smoke grass
and listen to the local kids who were in the train talking.
And they were talking mostly about rock concerts,
and who had masturbated, who had broken whose guitar on who,
things like that.
It was great.
Talking about mooning people, you know.
It was another life.
"Though I Long to Be No One."
I passed for two nights and days, alone on a train.
Whatever I do, I am always leaving.
Whoever's face I lay my own along,
the cheekbones bruised and rose, faces
of friends, of women, the elongated face
of my third wife, aged and concerned about my house.
Nightly, I carry them forward and sleep,
though I long to be no one.
The wheels of iron pass over these rails and boards
above water.
Over the bodies of my constant departure,
into my constant longing."
I'm the right poet to read tonight,
boy, after these days of rain.
Drear.