I feel foolish, like those silly robins jumping on the ditch boughs when I run by them. Those robins do not have the grand style of the red tailed hawk, no design, no dream, just robins acting stupid. They've never smoked cigarettes, drank whiskey, consumed drugs as I have. In their mindless fluttering about filled with nonsense, they tell me how they love the Great Spirit, scold me not to be self-pitying, to open my life and make this day a bough on a tree leaning over infinity, where eternity flows forward and with day the river runs carrying all that falls in it. Be happy Jimmy, they chirp, Jimmy, be silly, make this day a tree leaning over the river eternity and fuss about in its branches.
Jimmy Santiago Baca - 1952-
Listening to jazz now
1. Listening to jazz now, I'm happy sun shining outside like it was my lifetime achievement award. I'm happy, with my friend and her dog up in Durango, her emailing me this morning no coon hound ailing yowls vibrant I love yous. I'm happy, my smile a big Monarch butterfly after having juiced up some carrots, garlic, seaweed, I stroll the riverbank, lazy as a deep cello in a basement bar— smoke, cagney'd out patrons caramel and chocolate women in black shoulder strap satin dresses, and red high heels.