A Cycle for Dear Ole Gramps
by
Dave Olson (1987-2007)
Preamble Earliest Recollections Lansing Michigan, 1973 eating macaroni & cheese in a damp basement while adults whispered windows shivered radio crackled and i wondered why the tornado was coming and then my memory began
Moving, Forward I’ve held the Globe I’ve held the globe thread for vapor trails of journeys each color a route pinned from Greece to Kenya or St John’s Bay is that Israel or Syria? A blue loop with stops at 20 pins circumnavigates a memory of connections meals with colleagues
strangers and stewardesses Red thread of elongated triangles crosses over itself making obtuse angles o’er Pacific Tinain, Hawaii, Japan, Guam a green line returns to Perth Pins cover provinces and states organized pushed with vigor and precision Prague before velvet divorce Cuba preCastro Misnamed Indies several times around Belize, Venezuela, Colombia, Paraguay Paraguay why? Was it a holiday steamer or a recruiting mission? Heavy machinery to militants, airplanes to diplomats or typewriters to rogues a letter carried from a mexican ambassador from a round of golf decades before carried not as a prize but a pocket card, not an ace but a jack at least, “This is to introduce my friend, please provide any due consideration.” Outside the machines dig holes for bricks disguising the drip and hum of apparatus chest heaves so shallow, mouth gapes, head askew, hands, arms, fingers flush with fluid ruddy, worn and odd a man who worked with head and heart, but little by his hands Pondering the Question of Advice He pondered the question for over a day he could have died without answering finally, calling me close, hoarsely "make a hundred million then cut and run"
Sunken Awake Ashen sunken eyes awake slowly from morphine haze "it relieves the anxiety to breath" from time to time he screams "i can't breathe" and i say "you're breathing now" he remembers his father, "a financial genius" he says he is the kindly man with the pipe in the painting "it hangs above my bed" each word slow he was always good to me and he is calling me home come quickly he said i won't last long don't leave yet you'll have to wait he said, i am just too tired i am just too tired i am ready to go i am scared head drops struggles to move i am ready to go
Moving, Backwards (home) Columbia Daunted but Still Roils One way these track run into the elevator
and onto Mt Hood Turning east stopped by wooden fence dam the beyond columbia daunted but still roils stunted but strong regressed to measure and potential water spreads thinner than gold every fiefdom wants a piece so they bridge it dam and tame it rocks and monuments observe the folly silt builds up behind water cool ahead moving beyond memories of drowned villages and uncovered artifacts entombed, enshrined only the tugboats come close barge drifting silos wait trains slip past and columbia rolls Railyards Passing By journeys waylaid undertaken tossed fields of weakness past trestle stretch long past the hazel field
storage sheds of secrets cul de sacs dead end in empty fields glassy roofs volcano top early whiskey with gingerale intrepidly past railyards of enterprise waiting on a signal to leave only one hard fought coincidence leaving me on time you've won the anecdotes and left me the prize double loaded dump truck grey blue against the green spring fast jaded as though an accident mistaken incident of mine like fresh grass growing burst past the blackened mold hay bale cut for winter first browned forgotten and settled to waste alongst hidden railway yard seen flashing past noticed by someone who might live there or just be passing past not a stranger just someone who doesn't make it by except when the train leaves or when cherry blossoms occur
just to confuse the birds
Just, Moving (Roadtrip, circa 1987) The Smallest Town the smallest town possible Sublett Idaho (or Utah?) no matter i've been there twice Ranch Exit V1 Ranch exit Oh de Oh O'er the pass we gonna roll 'nigh services up ahead just us and trucks rounding the bend C Dropping in and shifing down half past Snowville by 10 oh 5 would stop for pie if the town were open but shuttered down so we keep on rolling V2 Ranch Exit Hi di hoh mother trucker swerving solo slow on down ya great big loader bailout lane is right there for ya V3 Ranch Exit Low de doh diggin the starshine show riding green and rolling low
past the flying J dark in idaho B Ursa Major pointing us ahead wellsville rising far behind as we are northward bound idaho's road are bumpy utah beer is swill oregon holds the gas pump and washington is greener still
## Affectionately Compiled, March 2014