I resist sitting in a chair
of wooden arrogance,
a perfectly hollow home,
symmetrically sound,
knowing so much.
The place I wanted to go
in resistance to my resistance
I didn’t.
I stayed warm and not sweaty cold
here with the familiar
dog and boys,
one who likes to talk, one who doesn’t
and the dog who is running running dream running
like me
to Argentina
to the Cataratas del Iguazú.
Beautiful.
I didn’t know you had visited the falls in Argentina. I was only in Argentina two or three times – parts of it were beautiful but parts were also desolate. The poetry is as beautiful (and perhaps as isolated) as the falls. Love you – Joe