WITHOUT FACEBOOK

Red, Congats yourself for wrangling words
to earn another Spur Award. It ain’t baseball,
maybe more American, more human than
writing poetry—your letter à la vernacular
typed on heavy linen, you and Wolfie (R.I.P.)
in a colored square that looks down
like you’re riding that Irish Wolfhound
across the landscape, visiting the world.

Say hello to Prince George for me,
Barry McKinnon. I’d love to hear you
and your daughter read. It will be chilly
this time of year, that barren ground
in the middle of B.C. where words take root
and struggle to mean more in that calloused
open space. It’s a long ways from the Sixties—
so many more wars and political deception.
We need forty days and nights alone
without Facebook or a smart phone
to get our heads straight, make home living
as richly as we can in this poor world.

cc: Red Shuttleworth, Paul Zarzyski
April 12, 2013