Travels with Doggy Dog

Traveling with a small dog entails quite a lot of things. There are specific times that need to be respected for when vaccinations must be given. There are also things that must be done in the last three days before the trip like filling out the health certificate for the pooch. The weight of Doggy must be right otherwise she cannot be with us in the cabin.
This time a a colleague from PEN-Flanders will be traveling with me. Of course it is always possible that life has some surprises in store. For instance our friend Nigerian poet friend Tade Ipadeola won't be able to come and visit us. Sad, we wanted to discuss his poetry, talk through some of the problems with the translation and also how to proceed after the proofreading we will be doing when at our destination. Of course we also will meet up with friends, make long walks in the desert, look at the murals and petroglyph's beauty and try once again to decipher their meaning. The particular once near the village are Hualapai and some old Hualapai still kind of know how to interpret them. The weather will still be nice, so longer trips are being planned. A lot of Nature and added to the mix also some Culture. I particularly look forward to my friends I have had to miss so long.
All of you: Sunday night late I should be home with my guest. Brace yourself for Monday morning: I need a lot of hugs.
When returning to Europe we'll stop in New York to bring the books "Over the backs of Salmon" in the Dutch translation "Over Ruggen van Zalmen" to Sherman Alexie's publisher and friend Robert Hershon. Exiting times await us.

Santa Cruz to Phelen

Following my friends car when we were on the road to Saul, who took all the people and animals in and fed us all. We drive through Salinas Valley, rich soil, good crops, Mexican workers in the fields. The clouds dapple the mountains surrounding the this grand valley. Salinas, so I had to think of "Somewhere near Salinas, I let her slip away..." From me and Bobby Maggee. The song was performed at Tony's funeral and I remembered the other old songs the buskers in Antwerp played in the streets. Remember: Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz. My friend all got Porches, I must make amends.... Of course after the fertile Salinas valley came the desert with its know dangers and warning signs about rattlesnakes. The Joshua trees and creosote, the dry mountains. Everything unruly, yet in its place.

Walking in the desert

When time is slow

the company good

you walk and talk

then laying down

on the outside couch

I smell the time of desert sand

opening my eyes

the mass of pinpricked stars

in my skies of blues

I name them Billie Holiday, Miss Ella and Aretha

in my darkest hues

eyes closed the reflection

of the sun in orange yellow glow

then in these silences 

tweets of birds

a far plane and someone’s plan

a car, a truck, a trick

and slight of hand

then swimming

in the desert glass and singing sand

 

Silver Hill's blues

walking through the wash
past the cemetery
with bouldered graves
I am awash
with words
weaving and waging
in my mind
the impermanence
of time
of timeless laughs
in greetings and parting
Silver Hill
solid and symbol
of what comes and goes
old cowboys old miners
old cars old Indian wars
and one day
I awash
with words

Desert words

walking without talking
watch without time
Spanish daggers and
and soft singing sand
the crunch of a footstep
and flapping of wings
rabbit brush and rosemary
through chirps and tweets
hearing silence
sticks strait and twisted
sleeping snakes
from childhood nightmares
watching out for slithering
a fleeting movement of bees
beings and fleeing
in the sparseness of tracks on soil
around a solitary plant
desert words of burning sand