24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home #6   3 comments

Lummi & MCLACThomas R. Turner (May 23, 1942–November 13, 2014) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

This posting is the sixth, and last, I will be sharing from a long poem written by Tom
sometime around 1980 after his wife left him. Today is the fifth anniversary of his death.

24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home
(Taken from a Brooklyn Bus Route and the Title of a Blues Album.)

The nuances between us were scattered with the 
January snows of Peter's arrival.
Ambiguities, second starts and brokendreams were too
Tangled up in Blue to
Cut to the exact place on the page where our rhythm had 
Broken.
I'm not that young any more.

"Get off your stagnant ass and do something."
The scenario years later would speak.
The Pacific Northwest and a three quarter profile statement
Echoing out Denny's window
Why I never got a job during all those summers.

Only the facts she put to me.
I couldn't keep in step with the definitions you
Dreamed.
 We speculated endlessly in different directions
Whether our togethrness might might imaginable be framed
From inside so that the usual connection between lover 
And lover and loved and loved would be interchangeable but
Paradoxically unchanging.

                     (For my benefit, I suppose)

Was the fiction of my eroticism so damn necessary?

Somewhere I glimpsed you
Coming at me; balancing cryptic hats . . .
Laughing comic confusion.

Now I never see you anymore.
The summers are much colder tha used to be
In that other time, when you and I were young.

I miss the human truth of your smile;
The half-hearted gaze of your voice and all the things
That you'll always be to me.
Only thee is no comic relief
Just a 
Curious translation of cracked nostalgia.

But lets 
Skip the arguments.
I already know how the story ends:
A-not-so-crytic-message:
Don't be naive
You could only gaze into the distance at my life.

			

3 responses to “24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home #6

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  1. So much revealed while so much left to ponder … what comes through is sad acceptance … out of all this, the lines that jump out for me (in one of the middle parts) :
    (I still see the scenes, but no longer see
    myself among those present no longer
    can improvise the dialogue)

    Clearly written after many years of coming to terms with the loss.

    Thank you for sharing this – the image is astounding, the story heart-wrenching.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s been five years now, but the loss of a younger sibling doesn’t get less hurting over time, only more introspective, which I guess is right.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. My brothers and I grew up on Cropsey. We lost the youngest 15 years ago. The pani doesn’t get any less. Best from Florida

    Liked by 1 person

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