“Although he got the message
he was deaf to the news.
There are no chicks in Santa Cruz”
–“The Other Day Near Santa Cruz” by Leo Kottke
I heard it on the half-hour news,
Above her empty seat it settled in
There are no chicks in Santa Cruz
Between a tampon spot and 12-bar blues
I laugh as the busser fills his bin
with what I heard on the half-hour news.
I ask him if he’s paid his union dues.
He smirks, asks me, “Where ya’ headin’?
There are no chicks in Santa Cruz.”
This place is a ring of comfortable pews–
lying, half-empty, tired of the sermon.
I heard it on the half-hour news
A thousand quadriplegics in canoes
are headed for a god-damned fall knowing
There are no chicks in Santa Cruz.
“I’m heading for a town called Lisbon,
Maine, where iced tea’s out of season.”
I heard it on the half-hour news
There are no chicks in Santa Cruz.
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This was written in 1993, January or February I think. For those that don’t know, this form is called a Villanelle, which is a fiendish thing to create in English. I had attempted one earlier, forced to by Mr. Logan, and have since abandoned it. I don’t consider this anymore than an exercise in form. There is too much to the story left out due to the constraints of the Villanelle to properly develop the ideas, or I just lack the skill to pull off my own ambitions. But, that said, it insinuates a world infinitely sadder yet cooler than the one we inhabit. When I read this, the frustration and isolation of the speaker does come through, and I can’t help but get caught up in it. So, I guess it doesn’t fail completely.
I re-titled this for this post. The original title was “Let the Courier Keep his Head.” The song is one of Leo Kottke’s masterpieces.
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