NOTES OF A NATIVE SON

I’m the truest sort of resident. The kind who,

asked to offer proof that he resides here, fails.

The guy who comes from someplace else & thrives

better than fremontodendron or another local shrub.

I am the child of Argonauts. I’m that Ithaca man

who’s been pre-ordained to wander

just like a common fieldhand, a vacher.

Lotus eaters tempt him.

Sorcery. Seduction. With your permission,

I’m going to make a lot of this story up.

Here is California, region of new mythologies,

the substitute for plot: a history pageant

covering every prospect of the valley

and its processions, from the tardy Donner Party

to the efficiency of the Overnite Express.

That was some caravan.

I slept a long time in the backseat of the car.

Which worked out well for me. For I knew little else.

Except to keep expectations low and myself high.

Who wants to go to Lodi? So do I. So do I.