Ti Jean by David Cappella
May 3, 2022 by DickH Posted in Poetry, Kerouac 5 Comments
By David Cappella
I had your visions atop the Medicine Wheel
one July afternoon and while driving Rte. 14
through Spotted Horse where I walked past
a row of caged coyotes to take a piss.
How the American Tao your words captured
shined on me one night outside of Sheridan
as I sat on a boulder with Jim and viewed
the milky way while cattle grazed nearby.
It hurts to tell you there are no saints anymore
and not even poets dare use the word ‘infinity’
nowadays. If it appears, it appears in glossy photos
from deep space telescopes. No wonder
I hear your voice now in the empty, naked sky.
I want to cry. There are no angels on the road.
5 Responses to Ti Jean by David Cappella
Strong words for cowering generations ring true: be there!
Images seen only once, glimpses that depend on the see-er being ready to see. Kerouac’s writing is, in addition to all else that it is (story, struggle, adventure, travelogue, going AWOL) is a series of snapshots, some illuminated with satori: friends pinpointing away in the rearview, a rose dropped into the Mississippi, the lilac light of Denver evening …
An observation: I like what Cappella, and Paul Marion, have been doing with the sonnet form – new wine in an old bottle. Salute.
David, this poem is really great.
I was there through the words.
What more can you ask of a poem?
Do not lament! Just dust off a copy of MEXICO CITY BLUES …