HOW WE GET BY

Last month at the Eagle Saturday Market; I couldn't see the oak 

from which these leaves had come;

it must have been that storm the night before

that also left my yard littered with leafy limbs.

HOW WE GET BY

By hook or by crook, by shoestring and bootstrap, by 

running and hiding, by mortise and tenon, by moving

undercover of darkness, by wit and dumb luck, by

spit and polish, by weights and measures, by love or 

money, by hurrying up and waiting, by word of

mouth, by bread and board, by slice and dice, by not 

letting the left hand know, by bed and breakfast, by

nuts and bolts, by nodding and smiling, by mortar

and pestle, by hammer and tongs, by never crying 

over what we spill, by backing and filling, by surf and

turf, by health and safety, by soup and sandwich, by

bourbon and water, by offense and defense, by being

as dumb as an ox is strong, by mind and body, by day

for night, by sturm and drang, by fire and ice, by hit

or miss---oh yes, by hit or miss.

Vern Rutsala

A Handbook for Writers; New and Selected Prose Poems,

White Pine Press, 2004, page 21.

Vern Rutsala is another of those poets I heard read their work in the lively Bay Area Poetry Scene in the 1980s--poet's that we now will hear no more. There are new poets and some of them are very good, but these are the ones I met when I was opening my heart to poetry
after I woke up with a half-finished poem in my head and began to write them.

Here's my first poem:

I hate to change toothpastes.

An unfamiliar flavor in the morning is

shocking! 

I hate to change toothpastes. . .

                                      June Hopper Hymas

(My next poem was better, I'll post that one soon. . .)

Anyway, Rutsala was a MASTER of the prose poem. Look him up! His books aren't hard to find.