Wednesday, September 29, 2010

California rivers

There's no water in the Sespe
or the Santa Clara
for most of the year
(and don’t get me started
on the Los Angeles River).
But this is normal to me
because I have seen the
Santa Clara River flood
over the top of the bridge
and send oranges floating
down the roads,
turning the roads into a
river when normally the
river can be a
road.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Garden

This time of year
the zucchini bark
like low-slung dogs
and grow rings
like a tree.
You can age
them by sawing
them in half
and counting
the rings.
Yep, this one's old and woody.
Yesterday it was
the size of my
pinkie.
The tomatoes
laugh so hard that they
split in the

sun.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Secret nurseries

There are secret nurseries
around here where
you drive your truck on in
and you may be
able to talk to a little boy
who comes running
out with dogs and
he may sell you some
rosemary for remembrance,
a little tycoon,
agent for his absent parents.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Suspension in flight

Sometimes it is good to
look out your window
because then you see
that there are four
hot air balloons
in front of the Topa Topas
of Santa Paula.
It is a little misty
in the morning but
as you get in the car
and drive closer
you realize that it
is a clear and
beautiful day and that
the balloons are large
and colorful
and joyous.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Balcolm Canyon

There are only two kinds of
drivers on Balcolm Canyon road:
those who are scared and
those who are crazy.

They don't get along very well.

You can tell the crazy ones
easily.

They are driving right behind you.

You are driving right behind the scared ones.

But you keep driving over Balcolm Canyon,
both scared and crazy
until you are over the perilous road.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Pickers

The nimble forklift operator
stacks the orchard bins
neatly on the truck
as an afterthought
and speeds down my trees
playing a three dimensional
game of Tetris.
He stacks the bins by the truck
and then he stacks the bins on the truck
and then he disappears.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Grimes Canyon

Between my house and
mom and dad is a
curvy road cutting
through oil fields,
farms, and gravel mines.
The hairpin curves are
cut through sandstone
where graffiti is
deeply etched on the leeward side
and has been there
since I met my love.
I can handle curves
but I still grip the
steering wheel tighter
at the top.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Old tractors and new tractors

There aren't any new tractors around here.
The new tractor is from 1968
and it has seen better days.
Open heart surgery on the
rusty orchard tractor from 1958
(that came with the house)
saved it to work honorably some more
down the rows of oranges.
The implements are mostly rust-colored
and don't like to move to much
but they do sometimes and I think
that they like it around here.

Monday, July 19, 2010

The cactus on the corner

Who knows but that the
neighbors are on to
something, keeping a cactus
on the corner next to the
irrigation pipe and
the orange trees.
Keep away the bunnies
and the coyotes
and the
Bardsdale dogs.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Jacarandas

And all at once the trees are purple and
joy reigns and the
sidewalks are purple
and then it goes away
until the next month and then
again all at once
more trees are purple and
joy reigns and the
sidewalks are purple again too
and then it fades to green.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Seedless tangerines

They put long white nets
over the tangerine trees
to keep them sweet and pure
Apparently the white veils
keep the naughty bees out.
I wouldn't know, that's
just what they say.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Pruning

The big machine of death
comes by tall and steady
with chainsaws as arms
and terror wheels to move.
It cuts the branches and trees
into highway lanes
so you can drive fast down
them and not notice that
it is mechanized.
The sunlight can reach the
fruit and the farmer can make
more money,
maybe.
But the mechanized death machine
passes by my house, loudly,
but doesn't touch
me.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Fillmore on the Fourth of July

There is really no place like Fillmore
on the Fourth of July.
An oasis of Baghdad,
bombs o'erhead
and thrown at your feet
by scamps with smoke balls.
The sky lit up in fourteen places
at once.
Neighborhoods are out.
Chili cookoff.
Don't drive your car
but go to the car show and admire someone else's.
Tranquilize your poor dog.
(Poor poor dogs)
and let the boys have their fun.
But I really don't like the 4th of July.
I know that's unpatriotic.
But loud parties
and beer aren't for me
and I worry about the dogs.
Pop pop pop
ratta tat tat
Boom! up in the air
(followed by eleven illegal fireworks).
Neighborhoods smoky.
Street closed off.
St. Francis of Assisi Church
A refuge for the soul
(Fireworks for sale 2 for one).

Friday, July 2, 2010

Volunteer Palms

The little
baby
palm trees
just
decide
to sprout
in the sand
and
there
they
are.
You don't have to go to the store.
Just look in the
ditch in
your
own
backyard
and
there
they
are.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Guiberson

Dark
fallow
field
with new mulch.
Lone barn
gaping face
graffiti-tagged
open door.
But
dignified and
solid.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Bardsdale turkeys

Fat little men
and women
on the side of the road
arrogant and insolent
let the cars get
too close
cross the road
and come to roost.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Breakfast

It's a beautiful morning in Fillmore with
blue skies
no clouds
orange trees
sunshine.
Fresh-squeezed orange juice and a
hot German pancake and
coffee.
Divine.
Little dog curled up.
Kids bickering.
Sunday paper.
Laundry going.
A nice way to start the day.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The Middle School Band

Mr. G lines them up and they begin
to play
first the drums
then the rest
a city-block long
march down
Central
stop in front of the old
movie theater
and play.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Piru

Piru gravel
oranges
tangelos
Ramona
Arco
windy
honey
dry
dust
tarot cards
palms
cactus
palms read
eggs
rental truck
more gravel
beef jerky
old restaurant
old honky tonk
old tavern
old mansion
old motels
coffee shop
lake
Piru.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Avocados

The avocado-laden tree
is heavy this year
with
riches
and
richness,
buttery fruit
dangling dangerously overhead.
A swift wind may
topple the
tree
as the large
orbs
swing
and the long leaves
flutter.
The dog
is
fat and glossy
and the
lawn mower
carves
the avos
into
guacamole
Ole!

Friday, June 18, 2010

The Fillmore and Western Railway

A trip to Santa Paula takes hours
(it's ten miles away)
but I'm glad it's there.
I've only ridden it to the
Island of Sodor with a
two year old
and a baby
but it took me farther than that.

It took me to a land where
travel was elegant and genteel
with beautiful wooden windows
looking out to graffiti
and metal shipping containers.

The iron detailing matters
on the seats
and the lights glow
and the world goes by at a leisurely
pace.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Valencia season

Hurray! the pickers have come again
with their ladders and their
zip-bottom satchels
slung over strong shoulders
singing songs and
calling through the trees.

Light a small fire and cook lunch.
Gracias.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Ay Chihuahua

The polka music starts
and, Pavlov's dog,
I salivate.
I'm hungry.
I always order the same thing
(why monkey with success)
a meal under three bucks
while pictures of
Mexican legends
stare at me
from the walls
and truckdrivers
try not to stare
It's worth the wait on Sundays.

Monday, June 14, 2010

The PG&E Camp

To those who didn't know
to zip
up
their tents
because San Francisquito
was undermined
and to those who did
and floated
to safety
miles down the Valley,
each Eucalyptus planted
(including those removed by
those who have forgotten)
is a warning and a celebration.
Go in peace.
You were just doing your job.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

The Bardsdale Methodist Church

I.
The Bardsdale Church bells
ring every Sunday
at ten a.m.

Cars park in
orchards and fields
and by the old school.

Basement rummage sale
ten dollar chair
Score!

Ring the bells
it's Sunday.

II.

At Christmas the
bell choir rings
the bells
and the old
bones quiver
and come to life.
Comfortable
incense and
stone-smell.

There's cookies
and punch in the
basement.

Colored
light
warm
glow

Christmas.