Daigu \ The Bike And The Pole

Alan:  As a young man, before renouncing the world, Ryokan had a reputation in his village as quite the Don Juan.

Daigu

Once I was known as the Bull of Echigo:

“Semen” my middle name.

Then I saw where it led:

clinging and suffering,

illness, old age, decay and death.

Now I couldn’t get it up if I wanted –

and where are those ripe young girls? –

bones, or shriveled beyond caring.

Wouldn’t they howl to see my little limp prick,

whose eyes once grew wide and eager at the sight of me?

Still, there are times, now and then, recalling those days,

I might be tempted to trade my wisdom

for one more night of deluded youth!

Daigu: “Great Fool,” part of Ryokan’s Zen name.

Nancy: April is mud and peepers, high water and fishermen.  When I saw the bike I could have predicted – yes – down the rain-slicked bank a kid with a fishing pole and hope.

The Bike and the Pole

The bike and the pole

and the drizzle and the memory

of the mud and the careless slide

and the old tree and the seat

of a trunk and a curve

and a branch and the way

you could stand at the water's edge

not you, this was my edge

my tree my memory my tangle of line

but it will be his memory too

because past the bike I can look

down the bank and see a head

tawny blond boy head

and I remember what it was like

the impatience even though

in a month this will all be green

but it's April and surely the fish

will be there waiting for me

just past the mud

the tree the curve and shelter

of my seat in the trunk of the tree