The Fish and the Nun
Oracles of Overbrook Park
Dad floated home from the war
across the Atlantic on the Queen Elizabeth
ready to be king. Brand new home
a hole in the ground.
It filled with water
and there resided
an oracle…a genie.
Dad threw in a line and caught
a glimmering rainbow trout
fish eyes magnified, mystified
gave him one commandment.
Lightning struck a tablet.
Dad had to listen cause
how often does a fish tell you
what to do in Overbrook Park?
My Jewish family
figured having a deli
two blocks away
wasn’t that important.
Bought a corner house in
a Catholic neighborhood
in between the shack tavern
and St. Alice’s church.
The Bodacious Boot
I was shootin’ some hoops,
just sank a few shots
when a nun came along
told me to leave.
Black and white, pale face
mostly covered in cloth
huge black pointed boot.
Who was I to argue with a nun?
I decided to go to a Jewish
social event, where I met Liza.
Neither of us ever
went to Jewish socials
but I couldn’t argue when
she told me that I
didn’t know anything.
What made her the big expert?
Something told me to listen.
Maybe it was the fish and the nun
“You look too straight,” she said
OK Liz, got it – gotta change
All of a sudden I’m wearing
army jackets with protest buttons
and wire rim glasses and a have a goatee.
“Now you look like someone
I’d like to meet,” she said
I took that as a compliment.
Tear gassed in DC protesting
Vietnam War venom, acid rain
dropping from the sky.
Since I was crying,
thought I’d ask why?
I asked a friend
if she thought being
a dentist was for me.
“It’s an exemption from the war” I said.
There was something about the way
she turned grey and looked a little wobbly
that told me it wasn’t a great idea.
I tried it anyway.
After a month or two
my feet seemed glued to the floor
and I broke free with a loud pop,
like a rifle in Vietnam.
I quit with no idea what to do
so I called Mike in his commune.
My mom had asked for just one thing...
not to join a hippy commune
I asked the fish
“Mike’s the man,” he said
I asked the nun
“Listen to your Jewish mom?”
she guardedly said.
Life was a trampoline anyhow
so I decided to jump when
a little voice squeaked,
Let’s all get stoned!
Who was that I wondered
as Mike helped me move at 3 am.
Who are you? everyone asked the next morn.
Mike’s not big on detail
so I stayed a few days,
met everyone before
they voted me in.
I was clueless to
the launching pad I'd
entered and some of the fuel
wasn’t exactly legal
but who's to argue?
Nowhere to Go but Up
Soon, the fish told my girlfriend, Bernadette
that she needed to find bigger ponds
hit the road, hitch across Canada.
I was a little confused about what I should do.
Should I follow Bernadette?
Something’s gotta change said the nun
I smell Orcas said the fish, whatever that meant
First day hitchhiking, unbelievable deluge
could have washed me back downstream.
Was it a plot by the fish who floated by
with a rod and reel?
He threw his line nearby.
I knew not to bite.
nun was desperately
grasping a capsized canoe.
Crashing thunder blocked her words
while arrows from her eyes barraged me
from pony tail to white converse highs.
Canada, second day...
I’ve got ten cents! - the toll booth charge,
The fish smiled, gagged nun drifted by
Follow Your Inner Fish
Canada, Alaska, then down to BC.
A guy says check out Bellingham
Was he the fish or the nun?
My thumb got heavy
eight hours at the border
until the fish drove up in a
day glow Volkswagen van.
In beard, pony tail, and wire rims he says
I’m only going to Bellingham.
Blindfolded nun seemed upset.
I said sure with no idea
where that was.
First person I met
was from my town...
knew the fish and the nun.
The fish was acting like
someone had hooked him.
He jumped so hard he broke the line
while the nun faded from sight
That same day
a hundred yards away
a girl named Colleen was
dropped off for school.
Nun perked up, Catholic name
quickly righted her canoe
paddled hard toward me
extra habit by her side.
Canoe flipped when she saw Colleen.
Disappointed nun floated past.
Lummi Island's ferry dry-docked.
I hitched back to get my car.
Took a while to get hitched.
Guy told me about
an island fish hatchery job.
Colleen pulled roe that summer, fish frowned.
I waved from a tipi on Orcas.
Life’s Canoe
​
I went for a walk,
an office caught my eye.
Did you notice that word caught.
School. Career. Thirty years.
I go to a lecture
but on the the wrong day.
Wandered into a classroom,
borrow a pen and paper.
That’s why I’m writing this down.
If I ever feel stuck,
can’t think of the words,
I realize I can always ask
the fish and his sidekick the nun.
Epilogue:
The trout morphed into a salmon.
The nun wears Birkenstocks.
They meet at poetry night and still
gawk at sunsets over Bellingham Bay.