Legs

Dedicated to Muse, because she reminded me of why Iowa has poetry.

They asked me what mine were doing

Somewhere west of Des Moines,

So I poked out a picture on my phone.

My foot was a paddle, pushing

Occidentally across I-80

Over the flowed hinterlands,

Summer-tossed under green sun.

 

The station is long forgotten,

The DJ’s blankly remembered,

Save that they entreated once.
“Show K-XXX in Council Bluffs

What your legs are doing,

And win!” my speakers pleaded.

I can't recall the prize.

 

The morning glare was bright

Under the dark dashboard,

But you could see them working

Without working, tired shoes

On anxious feet, on the throttle

Of my growling, blue Lincoln,

To prove that it was possible

Still to drive to California.

 

I did not send the picture.

There was nothing I could claim,

Except that Iowa convinced me

Once to favor Her,

Without recompense,

To kiss Her with curious tread,

To cut off a slice

Of my memory for Her

To taste. I kept that footprint

In my pocket, dropped it elsewhere. 

Reviews

[Muse]

The station is long forgotten,
The DJ’s blankly remembered,
Save that they beseeched me once.
“Show K-XXX in Council Bluffs
What your legs are doing,
And win!” my speakers pleaded.
Prize forgotten, too.


94.1 KRNA I listen to this almost every morning on the way to work and back. The music, the radio contest the mundane scenery....how did you know???? lol


I did not send the picture.
There was nothing I could claim,
Except that Iowa convinced me
Once to favor Her,
Without recompense,
To kiss Her with tender treads,
To cut off a slice
Of my memory for Her
To taste. I kept that footprint
In my pocket, dropped it elsewhere.


The closing was the most appealing. Very touching and yet full of malaise. We have all traveled the world in some way or form. I just happen to do it vicariously through others. Thank you for stepping into my world; however brief it may be, you will always be welcome. xo

[VennelaMargame]

I'm glad you like it. I was in Iowa less than 24 hours, but I have a story to tell about her. If you ever drive across New York, will you write me a poem in return?

[Muse]

IF, big IF that ever happens. Don't hold your breath. lol, I'm lucky to get five feet out of IA.

[VennelaMargame]

I hope you get to sate that wanderlust someday.

[Muse]

I do "in my dreams"

[VennelaMargame]

Maybe I should write you a travelogue.

[Muse]

take me there...

[VennelaMargame]

It'd be an honor.

[h d e rushin]

what do you call the animal that imagines what other states are like, how their water tastes,
if the roads make you slow the car down to keep from being shaken apart. Perhaps its best
that I don't know where Iowa is and my only link to California is an X who gloats each
Midwestern winter sending pictures of volleyball nets and little dogs panting. Perhaps its
best that "My" Iowa, "My" California is thru the vicarious substitutionary legs of another.

tremendous poem..dana

[VennelaMargame]

Well, when I went cross-country on my adventure, I was determined to find what made each state loveable. Not to force myself to like it, but to let them in with an open mind, and I had a great time.