I think that I would like to write a poem that
is slow as a summer
As slow getting started
As 4th of July somewhere around the middle of
the second stanza
After a lot of unusual rain
California seems long in the summer.
I would like to write a poem as long as California
And as slow as a summer.
Do you get me, Doctor? It would have to be
As the very tip of summer.
As slow as the summer seems
On a hot day drinking beer outside Riverside
Or standing in the middle of a white-hot road
Between Bakersfield and Hell
Waiting for Santa Claus.
-- From: Pscyoanalysis: An Elegy by Jack Spicer
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