by eugenia hepworth petty
Itinerant in the Northwest each summer
he plays sevillanas on the porch
and argues about the use of language
to describe the rap-poets' hubris
He lives twenty feet above the San Lorenzo
high in the watershed
where the water runs narrow and shallow
between the banks
At night, roosters, doves and guinea pigs
sleep in cages in the safety of the house
the ferret passed away in the spring
miniature horses entertain the children
of Indian families in Sunnyvale
on Ratha Yatra and Diwali
He recalls the story of when he was 86'd
from the artist complex in Santa Cruz
"I wasn't being belligerent
I was being a poet," he says
pacing back and forth