William Hathaway, Poet
  • Home
  • Biography
  • Books
  • Links
  • New Poetry Drawer
  • Contact

Old Knees


Our minds fret most on our minds
these days—why can’t we summon the name
of the silly movie star with chest hair
and wide collars who let a creepy monkey
drive his car? God is not in that detail
but in editing that replaces the significance
of rednecks in bellbottoms with early sun
shining a glossy bib on the black crow
perched at the very point of a cornice.
Singular for a change; a moment of reflection
before it joins a swarm after an interloper,
then a smug hunch with two others
in their yellow poplar. Yeah, we’ve seen it all.
Same old you know, but getting up
we forget every time to grab a ledge
in time. We need titanium knees,
but there we go again, back to money--
thesis and theme of every Big Idea.
Effective cause and causative effect
of a busyness that swirled and clamored
our minds with shimmering chimeras,
when mindfulness of afterlife
trembled like a peripheral shadow
in a high corner. As sun rises, crows
and morning traffic become one.
Knee ache takes the mind off the mind--
what to do today? Write a poem in Latin?
Or find the misplaced baseball cap
and take a spin to the Dollar Store?


Return to Poetry Drawer
Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.