Green mornings & Green Fields . . .
Ashland High
Teen Press Workshop #2
had just finished
I was packing up
when she walked in
a poetry reading to make up
also a
What does the poem mean to you?
short answer question
it was English class after all
she quietly read the title
didn’t say the poet’s name
didn’t need to
she was three lines in
when I let my backpack wait
ran across the room
with my chair
and asked her if
I could listen
if she would
start over again
and more slowly this time
for an old English student
she whispered
“I guess so”
and (re)began:
I Am Waiting
I am waiting for my case to come up
and I am waiting
for a rebirth of wonder
and I am waiting for someone
to really discover America
and wail
and I am waiting
for the discovery
of a new symbolic western frontier
and I am waiting
for the American Eagle
to really spread its wings
and straighten up and fly right
and I am waiting
for the Age of Anxiety
to drop dead
and I am waiting
for the war to be fought
which will make the world safe
for anarchy
and I am waiting
for the final withering away
of all governments
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the Second Coming
and I am waiting
for a religious revival
to sweep thru the state of Arizona
and I am waiting
for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored
and I am waiting
for them to prove
that God is really American
and I am waiting
to see God on television
piped onto church altars
if only they can find
the right channel
to tune in on
and I am waiting
for the Last Supper to be served again
with a strange new appetizer
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for my number to be called
and I am waiting
for the Salvation Army to take over
and I am waiting
for the meek to be blessed
and inherit the earth
without taxes
and I am waiting
for forests and animals
to reclaim the earth as theirs
and I am waiting
for a way to be devised
to destroy all nationalisms
without killing anybody
and I am waiting
for linnets and planets to fall like rain
and I am waiting for lovers and weepers
to lie down together again
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed
and I am anxiously waiting
for the secret of eternal life to be discovered
by an obscure general practitioner
and I am waiting
for the storms of life
to be over
and I am waiting
to set sail for happiness
and I am waiting
for a reconstructed Mayflower
to reach America
with its picture story and tv rights
sold in advance to the natives
and I am waiting
for the lost music to sound again
in the Lost Continent
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the day
that maketh all things clear
and I am awaiting retribution
for what America did
to Tom Sawyer
and I am waiting
for Alice in Wonderland
to retransmit to me
her total dream of innocence
and I am waiting
for Childe Roland to come
to the final darkest tower
and I am waiting
for Aphrodite
to grow live arms
at a final disarmament conference
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting
to get some intimations
of immortality
by recollecting my early childhood
and I am waiting
for the green mornings to come again
youth’s dumb green fields come back again
and I am waiting
for some strains of unpremeditated art
to shake my typewriter
and I am waiting to write
the great indelible poem
and I am waiting
for the last long careless rapture
and I am perpetually waiting
for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn
to catch each other up at last
and embrace
and I am awaiting
perpetually and forever
a renaissance of wonder.
little did she know
as she stood there
in retro peasant blouse
and sandals
that once upon a time
a young high school jock
now grayed guest speaker
had once been awakened
from where he slept
back row of English class
period after lunch
period before basketball practice
period of periods
and commas
and comas
that he had been awakened
by the very words
she was reading
decades later
little did she know
that wonder
and not waiting
for its renaissance
was the reason
he was visiting her classroom
that his number
drafted him
so he could meet Alice
who grabbed his hand
on a playground one day
and ordered him to
recollect
little did she know
as she shyly
explained to her teacher
what she thought
Lawrence was trying to say
that the old guy
in the chair
didn’t have to wait
for the tears to come
and that
he hopes his words
and Ferlinghetti’s
catch up to her one day.
