by Steve Gaines
what have the oracles told me
how have the stars led me into the this cul de sac of an
ending/beginning
once more caught up in the eddies of inspiration
up against the pitfalls of a practical life
without the incautious rationale of my old self
without things that make sense
the way they do when you can still do
them
by Steve Gaines
He came up like a blue rag
from fifteen feet of cold water
like a diver in reverse
unaware of the faults in his form
draped in lake weeds
and no longer
among the living
by Steve Gaines
A new beginning to an old idea
what if I were gone for good
over that last far away hill into never never land
flown into the great bygone
into the that eternal world in the sky
what if I were dead?
by Steve Gaines
I spend an hour every morning
working up a sweat on exercise machines
in a gym,
in a coronary care facility,
in a hospital,
in an age of heart
problems run amok,
in a brand new century,
in the very first year of the new millennium, in
my sixty-forth year.
by Steve Gaines
my “adulthood,” more or less,
spanned the final half
of the recently concluded century
from 1950
when I was one year into my teens
ever so close to chronological
adulthood at fourteen
if not so much in physical stature
(all five foot nothing of me)
right up to now
2000!!
a worn down sixty-something
(left with only pieces of my past
and about half a heart that works)
the big triple zero!
a year of blank new beginnings I suppose
conspicuous spaces to fill
by Steve Gaines
for the better part of sixty-five years
(that’s a rounded off number of course…
more like sixty-three years and six months)
I’ve been chasing the coronary demons
the ones I’ve only recently caught up with
…about ten years ago actually
(another rounded off number…
but never mind the precise number)
for many years…I suppose you could say… I “abused” it
burgers and fires and hot fudge sundaes…
that sort of abuse!
and for the last ten…
I suppose you could say…I “over worked” it
marathons bicycle rides long distant walking…
that sort of work!
however you spell it
lately…things have begun to wear out in a serious way
joints and tendons
and those invisible vessels running over my heart
by Steve Gaines
I never was a leading man…
in almost fifty years of acting
in my fondest dreams of course but never on stage
it was just something I never was
always the character part
occasionally stealing a scene here and there
…a shadow in the wings hanging on the next cue
but not the glitz and glitter…just the interesting pieces
second banana types
lackeys and spear carriers
by Steve Gaines
In a back street…looking for seven dollars
(one of life’s little theatricals…outside the proscenium)
in December of nineteen ninety-eight I was working the boards in Buffalo
the Studio Arena … Main and West Tupper
a long gray building adorned with large gold stars on its side
anchoring the northeast corner of the theatre district
playing a Polish bartender eight shows a week
just returned to the Muse back from my old day job
fresh from retirement out of academia
without wheels and walking to and from my apartment between shows
about a half a mile eighteen times a week back and forth in that western
New York weather
where I met up with a “woman of the streets” along Virginia Place
a street too narrow to allow a casual avoidance without turning back in
a panic
knowing I was about to be “approached” hoping to avoid it
“never show fear in the face of the confrontation”…I had learned that somewhere
Continue reading → Working the Boards in Buffalo
by Steve Gaines
part I – The contemplation of an event
somehow, somewhere over the distant hill of time
four and a half decades have fallen off the calendar
forty-five years!
that cute crowd of nineteen fifty-four is about to resurface
painted in all the white hair, spreading waist lines, hip replacements,
tummy tucks
you name it, all the curios of aging worn like their new uniforms
a curious crowd of sixty something
relics celebrating the passage of time
about to come together to tell lies and remember a distant past that
never was
by Steve Gaines
my grand father was a nineteenth century man
born…
as I recall…
sometime in the late seventies…
maybe early eighties
anyway…
by the turn of the century he was a young man
as a product of that “ancient time”
he might have been a cowboy
or a mountain man
…or a rough-rider
or almost anything
from my early movie moments
he wasn’t…
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