we’ll lean on the wall

against each other

stew simmering on the fire

as it grows dark

drinking wine.

ROLLING IN AT TWILIGHT

Rolling in at twilight—Newport Oregon—

cool of September ocean air, I

saw Phil Whalen with a load of groceries

walking through a dirt lot full

of logging trucks, cats

and skidders

looking at the ground.

I yelld as the bus wheeld by

but he kept looking down.

ten minutes later with my books and pack

knockt at his door

“Thought you might be on that bus”

he said, and

showed me all the food.

HITCH HAIKU

They didn’t hire him

so he ate his lunch alone:

the noon whistle

•       •       •

Cats shut down

deer thread through

men all eating lunch

•       •       •

Frying hotcakes in a dripping shelter

Fu Manchu

Queets Indian Reservation in the rain

•       •       •

A truck went by

three hours ago:

Smoke Creek desert

•       •       •

Jackrabbit eyes all night

breakfast in Elko.

•       •       •

Old kanji hid by dirt

on skidroad Jap town walls

down the hill

to the Wobbly hall

Seattle

•       •       •

Spray drips from the cargo-booms

a fresh-chipped winch

spotted with red lead

young fir—

soaking in summer rain

•       •       •

Over the Mindanao Deep

Scrap brass

dumpt off the fantail

falling six miles

•       •       •

[The following two were written on classical

themes while travelling through Sappho, Washington.

The first is by Thomas L. Hoodlatch.]

Moonlight on the burned-out temple—

wooden horse shit.

Sunday dinner in Ithaca—

the twang of a bowstring

•       •       •

After weeks of watching the roof leak

I fixed it tonight

by moving a single board

•       •       •

A freezing morning in October in the high

Sierra crossing Five Lakes Basin to the

Kaweahs with Bob Greensfelder and Claude Dalenburg

Stray white mare

neck rope dangling

forty miles from farms.

•       •       •

Back from the Kaweahs

Sundown, Timber Gap

—sat down—

dark firs,

dirty;       cold;

too tired to talk

•       •       •

Cherry blossoms at Hood river

rusty sand near Tucson

mudflats of Willapa Bay

•       •       •

Pronghorn country

Steering into the sun

glittering jewel-road

shattered obsidian

•       •       •

The mountain walks over the water!

Rain down from the mountain!

high bleat of a

cow elk

over blackberries

•       •       •

A great freight truck

lit like a town

through the dark stony desert

•       •       •

Drinking hot saké

toasting fish on coals

the motorcycle

out       parked in the rain.

•       •       •

Switchback

turn, turn,

and again,       hard-

scrabble

steep travel a-

head.

HOW TO MAKE STEW IN THE PINACATE DESERT RECIPE FOR LOCKE & DRUM

A. J. Bayless market bent wire roller basket buy up parsnips, onion, carrot, rutabaga and potato, bell green pepper, & nine cuts of dark beef shank.

They run there on their legs, that makes meat tasty.

Seven at night in Tucson, get some bisquick for the dumplings. Have some bacon. Go to Hadley’s in the kitchen right beside the frying steak—Diana on the phone—get a little plastic bag from Drum—

Fill it up with tarragon and chili; four bay leaves; black pepper corns and basil; powdered oregano, something free, maybe about two teaspoon worth of salt.