How I loved the sweet knockabout of life, bruised by contingency on all sides, I found myself drawn down the bright play of trackless circumstance, I followed Triano with my brakedrum in hand down the shortcut path through the old cedars to the back stalls of Riebe’s, sunlight glinting on crescent wrenches, what day was it? how would it all turn out? I loved the sure clank of metals more than music, mystery malfunctions cussed and discussed, all on one hot August afternoon, blue doors to nowhere, zigzag paths to the neighborhoods above the cracked retaining walls, no immunity anywhere, time and eternity are one.
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Comments about this poem (One Day by Craig Steiger )
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