BIG HAIRY CANADIAN POEMS
CALGARY TOKYO ORDINARY MIND
At 21, I left the Catholic Church because somehow the meaning
of life wasnt coming through,
not arriving at St. Johns in Kensington on 10th Street.
I wasnt connecting with the present state of the world, there,
across the street from Safeway,
not discovering those tiny clues to the nature of reality, there,
down the road from Chicken On The Way.
Please dont misunderstand.
In this poem Im not trying to disparage the fine spiritual tastings
offered by the Roman Catholic Church.
The priests did their best, tried as hard as possible to save my
immortal soul, keep me safe from Hells Eternal Fire.
The fault was entirely mine.
Clumsy wavering, a gross failure to connect, shoddy neglect
of proper confession, novenas, rosary, bible study.
Leaving Calgary, fall 1965, I left behind holy water, cross,
eucharist, taking only guilt, loss and spiritual hunger.
Forty years later, living in Tokyo, I still miss Premier Ernest
Mannings Sunday morning Back To The Bible broadcasts;
Friday afternoon bull sessions in the Highlander Hotels lively
beer emporium, men only, or mixed gender cocktail lounge;
Hot turkey sandwiches at Kresges, Chicago franks at the Bay;
Randolph Scott movies on Saturday afternoons at the Strand,
Variety or Hitchin Post.
Nothing cultural emerged in the 1950s or came to dominance
in the 60s.
Only annual last minute choke-ups by the Calgary Stampeders
football and hockey teams put the city on the map.
The New York School, Beat Generation hijinks, San Franciscos
Renaissance, all managed to bypass Calgary.
Cowboys, cowgals, petroleum engineers, pipeliners, mudmen,
fundamentalist Christians, Mormons, rural boohoos, Social
Credit, Cold War paranoia and retired ranchers defined reality.
Whoopee. Instead of Calgary I now roam Tokyos teeming streets:
Shinjuku, Shibuya, Harajuku, Ginza, rather than Stephens
Avenue Mall, the Red Mile, Electric Avenue, Forest Lawn,
Montgomery, Bowness.
Now, being in the moment, instant engagement with reality,
produces reexamination of the premises of Western civilization,
a new stance towards the real world, yet I know Im still out of
touch with deepest truth, still not saying what I always hoped
was there,
somewhere inside that solemn brick edifice in Kensington,
across from Safeway, down the road from Chicken On The Way,
on 10th Street Northwest.
Tokyo, Saturday, 10/16/05
