It's a Dutch word, I don't know what it means, like a giezer.
What's that? Dick Van Dyke?
Driving up the Henry Hudson Parkway.
I know a dyke when I see one, it's no surprise to me, like my friend who said, I dont' have a husband I have a wife, oh that's great. So was 'she' annoyed you were gone most of the weekend for a training?
"She asked me to clear the leaves from the rain gutter"
Back to water and damns.
I have been thinking about rivers lately.
The Adirondacks
and the way the Hudson starts out as a tinkle.
Then those glorious cliffs that you see as you push your barge down on the tug boat.
The tugboats pushing barges of coal or logs or empty steel flatbeds
and those men on the tug boat
and the places they sleep and what it must be like to tie up a barge
or grab a line and pull it loose
wear gloves
wear coveralls
and jump over coal.
I'd be good at it too, jumping onto moving objects, like a flatbed car from a freight train that whirrs down the tracks. And all that wind and
I'm an outlaw jumping from a car to steal a meal
up in Kentuky.
I'm going up there to do some work.
I have a floppy cap on my head and a beautifully worn tweed wool jacket with holes in the elbows.
I am now in the steel mill.
Past the smoke stacks and the crisscrossing bridges, inside the floor
and holding long prongs.
There's my partner Dyckman from Sweden.
"we gotta get this one out quick before she melts"
It's a rectangular slab we made molten
Now we're lifting it up out of the furnace.
It's even and held by the teeth of both our prongs
we got it balanced
in stride, we handle it, now red, into the cooling bin.
