“Time Bottle,” a poem by Daniel Holland

A few summers ago Daniel and I went swimming in Clear Lake together…on the swimming beach at the Clear Lake State Park. I’m a strong swimmer and he’s more a dog paddler. When he ran into some water plants, he panicked and it felt as if he were having a heart attack. I swam towards…

Why do we scratch our heads when we can’t figure something out? Are we simply buying time? Signalling that we are clueless? Or, do we think we’ll shake our brains a bit, and the information we are looking for will fall out?

Through the enchanted forest of postcards I project frames to each picture of time and space. I can control what I do with time: most of the time. But what about an afternoon of road construction delays? Or, I’m waiting in line at the grocery store and the cashier says, “Price check!” Or, I’m waiting…

If I write about cavemen, do I need to go to a library? Or can I just say the caveman’s first two words? Fire. Wheel.

LEARNING TO CRAWL — When I was little, I liked crawling and was able to crawl really fast. All the big people towering over me kept trying to get me to walk and stand up. The only time I would stand up is when no one was around. Crawling was my favorite way to get…

I’ve arrived in the Midwest now and am starting the work of making a new home for myself in St. Louis. My brother Gary Thompson flew out to visit me, fish with Daniel, and escort me back. We slept last night in the house we grew up in, where my father grew up, where he…