The next Silver Birch Press release will be GERALD LOCKLIN: New and Selected Poems (1967-2007) — which we plan to make available within the next few weeks. Stay tuned. In the meantime, here’s a poem from the 172-page collection…
NOT SUNDAY AFTERNOON
by Gerald Locklin
My son has kept his Sunday afternoon
Free to go hear jazz with me.
I swim from noon to two,
Lift a few weights,
Pick him up at quarter-to-three.
I put Sketches of Spain on the
Tape deck of the Taurus as we
Head north on the San Diego Freeway.
He reads his Hemingway—mine too.
Coming over La Cienega, haze and
Glare rise from the whitened basin
But the hills of Hollywood still
Catch one’s breath. Miles moves
Into Solea and my son puts down
His book, broad boulevards almost
Deserted, a corner taco stand,
The side street rows of California
Bungalows: at times L.A. is still
The town of Philip Marlowe,
James M. Cain,
Nathanael West if he had not
Been a New Yorker.
Terrific poem. Terrific poet, Gerry Locklin makes it look so easy.