Walkin' the Dog
The Arkansas River gets no respect
Not like the Mississippi, the Missouri, the Colorado
The Arkansas River gets no respect
But it’s a mean piece of water, my friend
Especially where it flows from Oklahoma into the state which bears its name
It’s wide and deep and big and bad
The currents surge in all directions at a sprinter’s pace
They define the water like scars on a boxer’s face
We’re there on the pier in Fort Smith
Having dinner by the window
The Arkansas
Angry and flooded
Is right below us
This restaurant is big but it’s not like some upscale palace
It’s not like some upscale palace on a pier by a yacht club
No, it’s old and it’s moldy and in need of repair
Like the boardwalk in Atlantic City
Like Cannery Row
Like General Motors
It’s old and it’s moldy and in need of repair
And we’re the only ones there
The waitress finally came
Her name was Mindy
She’d got there late
To get to work she had to drive through the rain across Fort Smith
Arkansas’s second largest city
And the state capitol of boarded-up businesses and foreclosed homes
The waitress finally came
Her name was Mindy
She tried to be friendly but her heart wasn’t in it
Not mad, not sad, just
Defeated
We could see the bridge across the river
The bridge across the river where a train was waiting
Waiting for the high middle section of the bridge to be lowered so it could get across
“There’s no one on that bridge,” Mindy said as if she were talking about herself
“There’s a guy far away and he just pushes a button and it comes down”
Then she perks up
Tells us a story
“The train yard on the far side of the bridge is a great place to run your dogs
Last week our boxer went into the water there after a goose
She got caught in the current, almost didn’t make it back
I had my shoes off and I was fixin’ to go in after her”
We stared at the water beneath us
Boiling and angry
Then we looked at her with disbelief
She caught our thought and hurled it back
“Believe me, I was goin’ in
I’d do anything for that dog”
Now her bright eyes went back to dim as she shifted her gaze
From the bridge to the empty restaurant
Table after table
All dressed up with no place to go
“You’ll be my only customers tonight,” she said
Her pain was out there in the open
The humidity made it smell
“People stay in when it rains,” my wife said, trying hard to sound sincere
“Probably real busy here on the weekends,” I added
“It’s been like this for months” she said
Only the dullness in her voice kept her words from slitting her wrists
But I saw something else in her eyes
A longing
A longing for a destination that she couldn’t yet describe
“Show me the….!!”
Show her the what?
She couldn’t say ‘cause she didn’t know
Who will reach her? Who will teach her?
Will it be some preacher
Stealing in the name of the Lord on late night TV?
Will it be the busboy?
The busboy
Rising ‘bove the minimum by selling clouds of joy
Or will it be you?
What can you do for Mindy?
This girl next door
This miss of America
This statue of liberty welcoming you to her state of mind
Can you describe a horizon
That will get her eyes up off her shoes?
Describe possibilities that will make melodies of her blues?
‘Cause when she said she would dive into the raging water
She wasn’t talking about a sacrifice
She was just willing to pay a price
For a happy ending
A glass at least half full
Mindy will follow you anywhere
If you speak her language to show you care
If you use words so right
That she’ll want to take a chance
Use words that are beats and can make a square
Dance
Words without distance and a bit of romance
Words universal
That make feelings flow and thoughts unleash
Mindy
She’ll follow you anywhere
If you speak her language to show you care
Mindy
She’d do anything for that dog
What will you do for her?
Will you take off your shoes and go in that water
To make sure she isn’t swept away?
Poem / 2009