a fine woodworker polishes his roughcut to best accentuate the grain
poets do that too, tinkering with words
here's my latest version of Golly John
Golly John
We made folks in this county get development permits
Be it fixing a roof or replacing a window
But you just off & die on us?
On the way home to Colorado from Cali
No permit. No notice
That big fat Buddhist ensō of no thing
You knew the heart sutra
Nothing's permanent about
a Zen cleaver
Chuckled along with the rest of us
when the Blues Brothers
bombed on the Valley Floor
You took risks
Worked with kids who said they wanted a lifeline
Tossed them into rafts & ran the rapids
I liked you best over coffee
in the morning's repartee at Mesa Rose
Pioneer old-timers. Ex-Telluriders
Feisty Floridian short-timers
who loved to crocodile
& then told great snapping stories
You took leadership
Wore your advocate jeans. Mixed drinks
& mediums
Some saw you as a fine art cartoonist
who illustrated our absurdities
Watercolored in the silences
But golly, John. You took a damn quick exit
After shuffling up & down Grand Avenue
for the last ten years
Manifesting
that wry savvy calm
behind the half-smile
Coyote artist. Trustee. Officer of the Peace
Tickling wit out of whim
Fancy out of the angler's cast & spin
One fine spring day, all of a sudden
you spun on an eddy in Whitewater
& left
Leaving us now unable to imagine
a Wrights Mesa without your
ambling shoes. Your tinkering brushes
