WALKING A DACHSHUND IN MALMO
for Kettil Kasang
A life without photographs in times we currently share
is to be moved,
is to stay close to the intelligence of the Wild,
is to walk away from a locked door
and stare into the Swedish emptiness of a street,
a life without a key, a key to let in the weary ones,
those two I can call my family even though
we are locked out, waiting, standing in front of a door
somewhere in Malmo, where we can be moved,
where we can hear the Wild speaking,
speaking to our fatigue, to our knowing we were late
for the exchange of the key, a key we wait for
trying to enjoy our first time in a neighbourhood
full of the fall’s insistence, colours in bushes,
shadows on sidewalks, a growing coolness each time
I still doubted the handle wouldn’t come through and get us in,
in where a bed and sofa
could be a true welcome.
When there isn’t a camera is when the eye returns,
no camera,
nothing that captures other than the eye,
everything about being locked out
goes somewhere when she comes
slowly up the noticed sidewalk,
being locked out allows me to observe more
than the dominance of the door,
allows me to scan those darkening bushes,
allows me to see her
with the metal forearm-crutches
on a walk with what I also see
her dog, stretched out on one of those leashes,
her dog way out in front of what
appears to be a daily endeavor,
the walk keeping both alive,
keeping the little dachshund
way out in front of her amazing ability,
crutches uninvolved with where
her mind wishes to go,
wishes for both of them,
a destination my eyes will never witness,
a destination my mind says
may have something to do
with a visit to the butcher,
to do with their love of the sausage.
COUNTING COINS IN DENMARK & SWEDEN
for Eva Pors
One coin’s amount starts with
the size of the five, one coin
with a hole in the middle
larger than the others
also with holes in the same spot–
I think of a cousin far away,
one not seen or heard from
for too many years,
one who was born with
a hole in his heart.
In the moment of being kind of lost
trying to board a bus
on what seems like another planet
having recently stepped off
a jet quite keen to plunk us
here, Copenhagen, our first steps
with smiles overtaking our faces,
but not our first admissions,
being kind of lost, no clue on how
to get to where we will be able to sigh,
put down our bags, observe the flat,
we chose when searching airbnb.
Unfortunately exchanging currency
doesn’t always provide the coins,
coins now called krone or kroner
or krona & kronor,
depending on the amount in hand
or the country we were in,
the amount being how
we will become math students,
simply tourists able to communicate
our not knowing,
call it fear, stress, worry,
call it what you wish,
to a bus driver willing to assist,
to understand, or to not accept
a word of English and allow us
on his bus for no more than
what ends up making us
more lost than we started out as,
or allows us aboard to ride for free,
willing to Google the address
I attempted to speak
being my first words in
what obviously wasn’t even
close to the Danish or Swedish language,
I at least tried to speak
in order to rescue, to do something
as father and husband,
bringing the cafe or museum
within the realm of a possible destination.
About the Poet
His poems have appeared for the past 35 years in literary publications across Canada, as well as a number of other countries around the world. He hosts and organizes RiverWords: Poetry & Music festival each year in Truro, NS., held at Riverfront Park , the 2nd Saturday of each July. In October 2016 he was invited by the Nordic Assn. for Canadian Studies to give talks on Canadian Poetry and read from his books at Borupgaard Gym in Copenhagen, and Risskov Gym in Aarhus, as well as other readings in both cities and Malmo, Sweden.
His most recent book, Learning To Settle Down, came out 2015 , from Black Moss Press (University of Windsor, Ontario, Canada), and a new book, Selected & New Poems is forthcoming from Mosaic Press (Oakville, Ontario, Canada). His love of walks is endless.
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