Reflections on the ex-pat writer's life and what makes it all worth the while |
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Drawing Smaller CirclesSuccess doesn’t mean what it used to and I can’t be John Grisham or Mickey Spillane But grateful as hell for Hemingway that he’s analyzed in all those Columbia Lit programs and Prague isn’t the Paris of the nineties I’m running out of needs, not wants, but empty tanked on neediness and drawing smaller circles The active verb is regress and I had to look it up to find it’s both verb and noun Taking the time that’s left to unwind too many years of winding I’d like to travel some, but can’t bear the thought of hotels, room service and rental cars Scheduled on Tuesday for the next thin waiting destination and looking at David with a crowd, moving out at closing time Rather live there for a while or not in long term rented rooms, belonging to the streets and watching, catching light in unexpected angles of the sun my back against a wall smoking the cigarettes my friends and loves all hate Maybe walk an old dog and laugh when he smells new smells Thinking I might smell them too for the first time in an old life Catch a train somewhere without a ticket back and get to know the rails Spend the afternoon to watch an unknown farmer plow a field with a horse and know it was worth it That he plowed that field only for me, waiting out his life for me to come and watch And all the bells that ring in villages were cast for just my ear Haven’t found what I’m looking for and might not even know if we came face to face So I don’t look for answers now because there may be none, perhaps should be none All I find these days are questions and need to ask them all |
 This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats. |
