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Category: My poems

POEM: Vaccine

Published 7 January 2013 by Jason Crane

220px-SalkatPitt

Vaccine

In the college coffee shop this morning, a trivia question:
Which disease did Joan Salk create a vaccine to fight?
Dozens of faculty members answered the question.
None pointed out that it was Jonas, not Joan.
Or is it me who doesn’t know the whole truth?
Did Dr. Salk, years after developing a cure for polio,
decide he’d had enough of the charade and make the
change he’d secretly been longing to make all those years?
I picture Joan Salk sitting in her office, talking with
fellow researchers about her pioneering work. Those
who were young enough might not even have known
about her past, just accepted her as the brilliant woman
she so clearly was. Maybe after saving the world, she
felt it was time to save herself.

7 January 2013
Auburn, AL

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POEM: Like A Good Neighbor

Published 5 January 2013 by Jason Crane

From My new apartment

Like A Good Neighbor

So now I’ve become the neighbor
who enters through the back door
like a character in a sitcom, or
stands just outside the front door
to steal a wi-fi signal with my phone.
But at least I’m somebody’s neighbor,
which is a big step in the right direction.
As of today there are blinds on the
glass door in the living room, so all
my wild debauchery is hidden
from the casual observer.
You know, all the dancing
to Stevie Wonder and Talking Heads
and watching movies from the 80s
and sitting on my weird carpet couch
writing poetry in my notebook.
I’ve seen neither spider nor fly
in my parlor, and I’ve yet to sneak in
a cat, so for now I await the pet rock
I was promised by the artist next door
and I talk to my electric kettle.
In this world, that seems as normal
as anything else. You should come over.

5 January 2012
Auburn, AL

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POEM: that he finds delight

Published 4 January 2013 by Jason Crane

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that he finds delight

in what we would otherwise ignore
is a blessing that shouldn’t be
taken for granted

every hat is a laser hat, every shirt
a suit of magical armor
no finger sword can pierce

he sheds identities like snakeskin
one moment he’s a ninja, the next
a secret agent, then a superhero

lifted into the air by adult hands
he is flying (not being carried)
as if gravity has looked the other way

he reminds us there is beauty in
the here and now, in the world-as-it-is
if we’ll only stop for a moment to look

4 January 2013
Auburn AL

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POEM: letter to [ ]

Published 3 January 2013 by Jason Crane

letter to [ ]

I send you incomplete truths
little notes that don’t say
everything I’d like them to

there’s something about you
there has been ever since that first
spring day in New York City

since then I’ve been listening
inspired by the strong and selfless way
you move through the world

I think you’re one of the most
beautiful women I’ve ever seen
but there’s no way to say that

and no point in saying it anyway
not from all the way down here
where I didn’t even wear a coat today

3 January 2013
Auburn, AL

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POEM: skylight

Published 31 December 2012 by Jason Crane

skylight

the rain is falling
against the skylight
I finally did it, Kate
found us a place to be

but I was too late

by the time my feet
found solid ground
we had evaporated

like mist
off a morning pond

28 December 2012
Auburn, AL

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POEM: Packing for the new apartment, I think of you

Published 28 December 2012 by Jason Crane

Packing for the new apartment, I think of you

I’m packing my Buddha statue
in the bag you knitted for me.
Do you even remember it anymore?
Do you remember sitting in our bed,
your back against the pillows that multiplied
like rabbits, carefully counting each stitch
while I counted each breath?
Do you remember the words you wrote
on the first pages of the notebook
you gave me as I left?

It may not seem like it when you read this,
but I’ve been doing better since that night
when you called to tell me that
it didn’t matter that much after all.
You didn’t use those words, but you let me know.
I don’t write angry poems. I really don’t.
It’s just that putting the Buddha back in the bag
was too big a metaphor to avoid.

I’m embarrassed to say it, but I’d still drop
everything if you called and told me to.
Maybe that’s not healthy. I don’t know.
But I know that sometimes you find
somebody who makes all the little gears
turn like they’re supposed to. Makes all the little
wheels in the lock click into place so you can
open up what’s inside you and let her in.

28 December 2012
Auburn, AL

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POEM: Tyrone

Published 27 December 2012 by Jason Crane

Big Chicken - Marietta, USA

Tyrone

We were in Marietta, Georgia
(on that side of the big chicken)
when she told me her dream
about Tyrone. It was then I realized
that after two first names, two
middle names and three last names,
I’d chosen the wrong one.

26 December 2012
Auburn AL

/ / /

This was supposed to be a funny poem based on a conversation I had earlier today. But, largely because of its source, it ended up being a love poem. Ah well.

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POEM: Turtles

Published 18 December 2012 by Jason Crane

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Turtles

On the first day, we saw a stick floating on a pond.
With my poor eyesight, I thought it might be a turtle.
You said it was a stick, but beneath the stick
there was a turtle on a bicycle, pedaling his way
across the pond. It’s turtles all the way down, I said.

On the second day, you gave me an index card.
On it was drawn our stick, and beneath the stick
a stack of turtles, one of whom was on a bicycle,
pedaling his way across the pond. These turtles
remind me of someone I loved very much, I said.

On the third day, that someone reappeared
from out of the blue, like a turtle popping its head
above the surface of the water. She asked me
whether there was any hope of reconciliation.
Show me your bicycle, to prove you’re real, I said.

18 December 2012
Auburn, AL

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POEM: hands

Published 17 December 2012 by Jason Crane

hands

I couldn’t help but notice your
index finger, pointing at the graffiti heart
on the wooden gazebo, drawing
my attention to the turtle popping
above the surface of the pond

your fingers interacting like dancers
bending this way and that
in support of a greater image
holding my gaze as they wove
subtext around our conversation

I went so long without the touch
of another’s hands on my skin
so I imagine yours as we stand
happily trapped by the downpour
carefully erecting our borders

16 December 2012
Auburn, AL

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Poetry Reading: A Few Recent Poems

Published 17 December 2012 by Jason Crane

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Now that I live in Alabama, and most of you don’t, I decided to make a short recording of several recent poems for those of you who can’t come to my live readings. This lasts about 10 minutes, and was recorded in my bedroom on a rainy night in Auburn. Enjoy!

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POEM: Leonard Cohen In Alabama

Published 10 December 2012 by Jason Crane

Leonard Cohen In Alabama
(for Marian Carcache)

Leonard is singing to Marianne.
I’ve got my window open to catch
the sound of a thunderstorm, rare
here in this time of drought.

My office is like a bomb shelter —
I could turn up the music if I wanted to.
But I don’t. There’s no sweeter
sound than the rain outside.

I imagine Leonard in Alabama
in an immaculately tailored gray suit,
long legs carrying him down
the dusty Federal Road

through towns where the mail
no longer runs. His close-
cropped hair the only commonality
with the all-but-forgotten farmers

who watch silently from atop their tractors
as he passes like a ghost or the taxman.
Decades ago he might have carried
a guitar, now he worries the brim

of the fedora that’s never far from his side.
He learned to dress this way from his father,
the same way these men learned
to work the land from their fathers,

the same way all men are bound
by what little a father can teach,
what a mother can fill in.
Bound and determined and

waiting for the rain to end
so I can make it to my car.
That’s not true. I don’t mind the rain.
I’m waiting for this song to finish.

10 December 2012
Auburn, AL

/ / /

Photo credit: Jimmy Emerson

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POEM: Sunday Night Sketch

Published 10 December 2012 by Jason Crane

Sunday Night Sketch

Come for the basket of deep-fried shrimp.
Stay because every little while
she laces her hands behind her neck
and laughs the bar alight.

9 December 2012
Auburn, AL

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