Complicated Country

I was born in the land of Lincoln
and have taken field trips to his
Springfield, springboard. Now,

we've blue and red states, states of
mind. Where are the abolitionists
for gay marriage, the underground

railroad to free thought? I've seen
the gangly lawyer's three-seater
outhouse, the Irish maid's plain

room, the souvenir stovepipe hats
and strap-on beards, these souvenirs
of Whitman's still-wounded America.

Is this a country song? Bluegrass
morning /what's your warning?
History envies that we can stay home,

that we play strip poker until the last one
clothed wins, that we must drop our
guns around our legs like useless facts.



The Umbrella

Class assignment: bring in an object
that tells your life story. Friends bought

a music box, a painting of a cowboy
being tamed by a mountain, a jeweled

Buddha, but I was poor and had to risk
being modest. Then I saw the broken

umbrella, turned it inside out and
exposed its ribs. There was a pun in it,

rain and Rane, but the teacher said, how
sad is your life? The other students

nodded for their grades, but I opened up
the umbrella, holding it by what was

left of the handle, and it blossomed
before the astonished class. Once again,

when dismissed, I made magic and I
got an A for seeing among the blind.



Teaching Yusanari Kawabata's Palm-of-the-Hand Stories To Midwest Students

Think of the brothels as
after-hour dance clubs:
ecstasy isn't always a pill.
The sixteen year old lovers
are like those turning 21 in
Ohio: no more waiting.
The lost businessmen
are lost businessmen.
Watch CNN or your fathers.
I ask, what speaks to you?
A shy football player says,
no murders in the book.
It spurs something in others:
a cricket can be interesting,
sex is just sex, bells war
with winds, geishas grow old.
Then there's a lull, too much
has been said. A student asks:
why did Kawabata kill himself,
the coward? Now they doubt
him. Heartbreak, for them,
is forensic science majors until
they wanted to stay in class
and become less than human
in jobs suspicious of passions.

Ekleksographia:
Wave Three

May, 2010

Poetry

Rane Arroyo

Rane Arroyo is the author of ten books of poems, a book of short stories and a book of Selected Plays. He's working on his memoirs and some new books of poems. Somehow his craziness has led to a career. He lives and writes in Toledo, a place that rightfully honors bowling.