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the leaves are changing

Steve Dalachinsky

steve dalachinsky poem
image credit: BioDivLibrary / CC BY

the leaves are changing
somewhere outside
brewster
it’s rare that we leave
new york
the island but     here
we’re moving with the
changing leaves
north
on interstate  weeping willow
slowly changing
it’s early in the season
& there are “natural points
of change within
a given time”

cross river
we bare
exit 6 closing
I-684 is
that way   brewster 11
prawling 23
i think it said

we are borne forward
on peter pan’s
back
carried changing
by people professionals
wards of the lake & solar
system
carried like stars
on the poets’
backs.

the second best thing to do
during a lifetime
is to plan a revo
lution

the first best thing
is to revolt

the last best thing
is to know what you’ve done
& why

hard thinking
like rearranging
all those
letters
in a
scrabble
box

coke & lots of
land
for
sale

kerouac told whalen
in a letter dated 12-4-68
call me phil    call
me
my # in st.pete
is
343-1541

road work for the next mile

don’t give this # to
anyone
i don’t want visitors
i’ll strangle
‘em

the first thing   is
to plan your
life

the second thing
is to live
it

kerouac told whalen
to return his
books
he told whalen not to worry
to move somewhere
do something else
maybe

(the leaves where they have begun
to show red
show such a red
not red light or
emergency
but a subtle change of
life)

     a sign says CHARLES IVES CENTER

kerouac wants that copy
of blake’s jerusalem
back
–
a sign planted on the cemetery lawn
says
TRAVEL SERVICES

the second thing is to hunt
the first is to let your prey go
free

maple & fir
they never change in
this water
town
this highway of exits &
bridges &
footing (s)

the willow chases the wind
away
the wind wanders down the
highway
& into the small city
it rests atop
1 of the 2 main spires
of the
mother church
where angels dwell
sleeping weeping
thinking staring
praying

kerouac mentions
other books as well
he’s drunk
he has been hit in the head
with all that television has made
available to
him
he wants to write as much as he can
& read
& rest
& drink
he wouldn’t mind whalen’s company
but doesn’t really seek
too many other
visitors

food    –    phone    –    gas    –
lodging

   god’s gymnasium

the last best thing about the leaves
is when they start still moist
falling & forming
a carpet of reds
yellows & all the fire colors
on the ground

the first best thing
is to know they’ll
change

the second best thing
is when pretty much all of them
have changed
& the leaves are still on the
branches

then they start
drying
& making noise
& winter comes
& the trees look cold
& you wonder
how they can stand
being
so
naked

kerouac says to whalen
that he’s gonna build
a big fenced-in-out-
door
library
in his backyard
he’ll sit all day
read
write
& drink boilermakers
& look at
his georgia pine
his banyon tree
& his bush tree of some kind
that’s at least 25 ft high

well phil
take care of yourself

the leaves are changing
they’re free & the
reds & yellow-oranges
are softly
creeping thru the greens
don’t meditate too much
food    phone    gas    lodging
      are     not      far
away

my letter
is safe under
glass
at the public library
along with my dreams
& some of the dharma

the shoulder is closed
this life is a new town
a blasting zone
a blue colony       a diesel
under glass    maybe
the color won’t change
much more
will not go brown
& brittle     like the leaves
when their changes are complete

& when the  blasting zone ends
the   best       music
the   best       fishmonger
the best         refuge
is peter          pan’s
back
above the clouds
as the rain
starts falling       east
on  I-
84
food
phone
gas

lodging           let’s ride together into the corner of this room
                        let’s lie together beneath the fast drying leaves
                        let’s sing           deaf      but hearing every sound
let’s blow
together
like the wind down the highway
let’s stop together on asylum street
beneath the golden dome
let’s walk thru the capitals of heaven
like 2 naked trees that just won the jackpot
& straight/talk our way into warmth
flags   wave
let’s stop pretending
that we’ve seen all this
before

the leaves are changing
for the first
time
the leaves are
changing.
this piece was written 9-22-94 on a bus from NY to Boston to attend the Lowell Celebrates Kerouac Conference (Kerouac and Spirituality) in Lowell, Mass.
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Steve Dalachinsky

Poet/collagist Steve Dalachinsky (September 26, 1946 - September 16, 2019) was born in Brooklyn after the last big war and managed to survive lots of little wars.

His latest CDs are The Fallout of Dreams with Dave Liebman and Richie Beirach (Roguart 2014) and ec(H)o-system with the French art-rock group, the Snobs (Bambalam 2015).

His most recent books include Where Night and Day Become One: The French Poems / A Selection 1983-2017 (208 great weather for MEDIA), Fools Gold (2014 feral press), flying home, a collaboration with German visual artist Sig Bang Schmidt (Paris Lit Up Press 2015) and The Invisible Ray (Overpass Press – 2016) with artwork by Shalom Neuman.

Author: Steve Dalachinsky Tags: poetry, Steve Dalachinsky Category: Poetry August 17, 2017

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Comments

  1. Anonymous says

    August 30, 2018 at 3:31 am

    I really like your work. Your words feel familiar. Are you my brother? Thank you… Yesterday I fell asleep so peacefully… Thank you
    H

    Reply

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