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Morton Marcus: This is Morton Marcus and this is The Poetry Show, and welcome once more. On Tuesday night, this coming Tuesday night at 7:30pm at the Bookshop Santa Cruz. Robert Peterson will be reading his poetry and having a book signing

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for his new book ‘’All the Time in the World.‘’ It is Bob Peterson's ninth book, he has been selected, one of his books, ‘’Leaving Taos‘’ has been selected for The National Poetry Series, and without meaning to embarrass him, I would say that

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Bob Peterson is the poet's poet. He does things as the textbooks and the theoreticians tell you, you should do it, and nobody does it. And he is one of the most lovable, enjoyable, wry, intelligent wise poets around whose sense of- well, here's

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what Carolyn Kizer says about h m, ‘’he has a faultless ear f r the rhythms of contemporary s eech, both city and country, m rvelously balanced lines with a touch of nostalgia for the u lived life.‘’ It is a great p easure to welcome once more to T

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e Poetry Show, a former r sident of Santa Cruz and New M xico and Marin County where he a ain resides, Bob Peterson. B b, welcome to the show. Robert Peterson: Thanks for- Hello, my good friend Mort, nice

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to be here. Morton Marcus: Why, we are that and it is a great honor to be that. I will just say to the people out there I heard Bob read for the first time in 1965 and I have been a fan of Bob's

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ever since and one of the first articles I ever wrote about poet- or poetry was written about Bob Peterson. So we go back some years and if you have not heard him before, if you are new to Santa Cruz, I think you're gonna find this a most

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enjoyable show. Bob, why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself as though you had not been on the show three times before. Robert Peterson: Okay

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Morton Marcus: And what some of your biography is, and those salient points. Robert Peterson: Well, I was born in Denver, Colorado, in 1924, and came to San Francisco almost immediately after that,

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and grew up in San Francisco in a hotel my father owned at Gary and Mesa Street that was then called The Fielding, which is still there. It's now called The Raphael. And I grew up there, and went to high school, and went into business, well, went

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away to college, and then the war came and went off to soldier in the- in Europe, and came back and went into business with my father for a few years, and then eventually ended up at San Francisco State looking for teaching credential. A very

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exciting time, as you know, to be back in college, and I was at San Francisco State that I started to write poetry, and I've been sort of doing that since. Morton Marcus: And not only exciting teachers, but certainly

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exciting people who have befriended you and have been loyal fans ever since. In fact, this afternoon, we gathered for an impromptu reading and most of those people you know from San Francisco State-

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Robert Peterson: Many of them [crosstalk] many of them that that I've told other people wh t I‘ve told you that- th Morton Marcus: You can just bring up some names for people t was probably the most inter sting time and place for

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a younger American writer to b in that time because it was ba staffed with fine writers a d poets, profe I‘m sure [crosstalk] Robert Peterson: William Vantil- Tilburg Clark was there, the

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prose writer Mark Harris, the teacher Mark Lilienthal was there and we became friends as you know, and Arthur [unidenfified], and a host of at least half a dozen other professional writers were there, and their doors were always

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open. And because of the war, there was not a big gap between many of the veterans and the teachers, in fact, many of the teachers were also veterans. And so there was a wonderful rapport and a lot of excitement, and as you know this was around the

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time of the Beat Generation excitement that coincided with that. And so, it was a wonderful place to get started as a writer, much- you know there was encouragement coming from all kinds of directions if you had something to say.

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Morton Marcus: If you had something to say, that's a good point to take off on. One of the things about your poetry, which at this afternoon's gathering really struck me, I was reminded of that old wonderful two lines by Archibald Macleish, who said

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that ‘’a poem should not mean but be,‘’ and it seems to me that your poems don't talk about ideas, don't expostulate, but are themselves complete entities of both emotion, ideas, and experience. And with that wonderful statement in mind, Bob

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looking at me very embarrassedly, why don't you read us some one of your poems and let the people hear what you can do? Robert Peterson: Have any ideas where I should start?

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Morton Marcus: Well, how about the- the first one there which I think is the door. Robert Peterson: ‘’The Dog is Breaking Down‘’ Morton Marcus: ‘’The Dog is Breaking Down‘’ [crosstalk]

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Robert Peterson: All right. This is from a book called ‘’The Only Piano Player in La Paz‘’ which was written here in Santa Cruz, actually, and it's called ‘’The Dog is Breaking Down,‘’ and it is a kind of sonnet. At that time I was writing what I called

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kinds of sorts of sonnets which- without a particular rhyme scheme, but it just trying to take 14 lines and see what I could do. So this is that: THE DOG IS BREAKING DOWN

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To and fro he runs around the clock, pissing on seedlings, and chasing moths and butterflies into the house. He can't think, sticks worry him, he‘ll eat six biscuits in a row then bark at the box, his owners don't know, they think he's fearless. But

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he's a loser. He dreams of unnatural relationships and [unidentified] cowhide when sparrows perch on his nose. Loved only by his fleas, as doomed as we are, he's trying to keep busy. But his nerves are shot. He'll be killed by a car.

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Morton Marcus: And I love the sound of that, I love the rhythm of those lines, and even the sentences and how they come together. And I love that one conjunction between the animal and human world when he's ‘’as doomed as we are‘’ and suddenly

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we realize we're not talking about a dog at all, really. And it's- it's just wonderful, it's wonderfully wry, it's wonderfully accepting of the world, and all of its crazy ironies, and talking about crazy ironies, why don't you tell us

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what you do with newspapers and words? And how this stimulates you, you've got a lot of young writers out there could take this as a hint. Robert Peterson: Oh, well, it's not entirely with newspapers. I

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think I know what you mean. I mentioned earlier today, I kind of collect words that aren't that common, words I just run across in the dictionary sometimes when I'm looking up another word, the kind of words that are sitting on top or

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underneath the word I'm after. And I keep a kind of mental file of these and look for places to give them homes, you might say. They're words that I have probably never used before, but I try to find a home for them in a poem and a place where the

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word means not only what it means, but vibrates and resonates with- with the poem in a new way. Morton Marcus: Do you have anything maybe from the new book or one of the other books that would give an example?

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Robert Peterson: That exemplifies this? Yes. Let me see. Morton Marcus: He is looking through the new book, ‘’The New World‘’

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Robert Peterson: And I guess I'll read the poem I read this afternoon called ‘’Mechanics.‘’ Morton Marcus: Okay. Robert Peterson: And if I can find it. In this poem, there's a

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word called Gnosis, spelled G, N like never, O, S, I, S and this means a evidence, real evidence of spiritual truth, and I just love that definition having always had my problems with both real evidence and spiritual truth both. So what I- I didn't

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exactly start this poem ‘’Mechanics‘’ in order to use our word but in the middle of that I realized that this is the word, this word's time had come. And let's see if there's anything else I need to explain here. Of course, luddites, maybe

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not everyone's familiar with it, as a term to apply to people who are generally anti-industrial or anti-mechanical people. MECHANICS If doctors are remote as 21 dealers, and masters of the

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Koto, and dentists just to incredibly genial, confidentially most mechanics don't even bother to observe the most common courtesies. Well, I'm trying logically and chronologically to confess my faulty machine, they make no

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secret of being bored to tears, sometimes seem almost narcoleptic. When finally they do catch enough to declare in their unique patois what must now be done, how long it will take, and add up the incredible costs for parts and labor, take

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it or leave it. Almost always managing to imply I lead a dissolute private life and I'm doomed never to grasp the gnosis of machines. Also hinting that no matter how many times I'm checked and tuned, and remember to change the oil, I should

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learn to expect my rods, mouse(?), and mufflers to continue to fail and drop off willy nilly, ad infinitum in series, the proper fate, all moronic luddites deserve. Morton Marcus: And it's very, very funny poem and again, there

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is suddenly that conjunction here between machine and human. And we're not talking about the machine anymore, we are talking about the great priests of the modern age being, in this case, the mechanics

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Robert Peterson: We‘re also talking I suppose about pervasive entropy that we're sort of trying to learn to live with, one way or another. And as we are, you and I were talking earlier today, it seems like only one way of handling these

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things, which are coming out of [unidentified] with some kind of humor, and humor itself is going through a kind of period of entropy, it seems to me. Morton Marcus: Maybe Bob Peterson's poetry can maybe turn

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the the tide in that Robert Peterson: Would be nice to dream that. Morton Marcus: Okay, Bob, why don't you read something that you like to read and-

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Robert Peterson: Alright Morton Marcus: I've given him a convenient print-out of his poems that he's never going to go back to the books themselves. Robert Peterson: All right. This is an early poem called

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‘’Baseball,‘’ it seemed like a good time to read it. I sort of read it every year at one time or another. It goes way back to a much earlier book, I still like it. To me it resonates with sandlot games I played as a kid in grammar school

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BASEBALL In the last pocket of a threadbare afternoon I found a park, some boys, five on one side, seven on the other. Were having baseball, home played on a hill, first base an imaginary

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place, everyone knew where it was. And out beyond a real pond ducks sailed on. The sides called, "Come on and play'em," and catcher for both sides. So I came on, and we had baseball for a long, long time until nobody remembered the score. Until we

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were only three against two, six shadows tilting under one evening star Morton Marcus: It's great. That, you know, Carolyn Kizer kind o talked about nostalgia. And I t ink that- that poem has its o

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n kind of nostalgia for when, y u know, you'd put these games t gether and you'd play well i to the darkness and it's the m st American of all sports. And a l of this just comes welling u in this poem, and it becomes v ry haunting.

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Robert Peterson: And it's a kind of comment, too, on winning and losing. And the point of these games was, of course, not- doesn't matter who won or lost, but you had to keep playing, you had to persist. And the score was of no importance whatsoever.

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Morton Marcus: Great. Another thing that Bob Peterson's poems do and since we're reading in the old book, and this is- there it's a poem called ‘’Hands Folded like Napkins,‘’ and it is if ‘’Mechanics‘’ will strike the readers out there as being

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familiar and dealing with mechanics, dealing with going to the dentist's office has never been- been handled better, the fears we have. But this poem also illustrates another technique that Bob uses which I envy so much, Bob cuts things

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down to the bone. There is not a wasted syllable, is not a wasted word. But what he also does is, he takes out connections, and he makes the reader make connections. So, if you've ever been in a dentist's chair and you're trying to take your mind

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off of what is going on, above and around you, and you just concentrate on the sounds, just see what he does here with a sense of picking at one's teeth, and the electric drill, and how to survive a dental visit. It's called:

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HANDS FOLDED LIKE NAPKINS Robert Peterson: Hands folded like napkins in my lap. I'm staring wistfully at the future. Just one of the crowd, a bystander. It's my teeth they're after. Someone's trimming a

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hedge, the Paris Express arrives, it's the last lap at Le Mans, and the band's playing. What's the sound of one castanet decaying. Across my nose, doctor and nurse speak in code. Are we cementing Mrs. Carson's crown? What became a Fred? I'm going on

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a diet, I can't nod, even my beard is novocained. Just concentrate on letting normal thoughts flow naturally. She's built, does she, or doesn't she. Morton Marcus: Okay, so that is really where the poetry of Bob

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Peterson comes from. It's the language of our speech, the language of our speech, so capturing the rhythms and the nuances, leaving things out so that you make connections of a wry sense of humor, but at the same time, there is a

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personality behind this and a way of looking at the world which has been described by many people as a very Chinese wise sage way of looking at things. And I know that some- all embarrasses Robert grandly, but I am introducing him to you

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people out there, and we are talking with Robert Peterson, who will be reading this Tuesday night at 7:30 at the Capitola Book Cafe in celebration, and signing his new book ‘’All the Time in The World,‘’ a very beautiful book with a painting

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actually by Bob on it, just gorgeous cover, and gorgeous print job. Bob, I am going to let you take it. What would you like to read now? Robert Peterson: Since you were mentioning some Chinese things I

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guess I'd like to read the ‘’Evening Poem‘’ which is for Carolyn Kizer, which is- which i a product of a lot of study I g ve to the great Chinese m sters like Tu Fu and Li Po, and at least half a dozen oth rs. And I'm sure I could sti

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l continue to study these guy who- of course in translation, but the best translations I can find, and I could just go o quite a bit about what I'v learned from them, and stole from them, and what a debt I ow to these power- ancient poets o

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the Sung Yang dynasties. So hol on a second, and I'll read thi poem. If I can find it Morton Marcus: Robert is looking through the book. Now this is to illustrate to our listeners what is happening here in the studio.

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It is not dead air, it is a poet feverishly thumbing through- Robert Peterson: I'm here now, and it's called EVENING POEMand it's dedicated to Carolyn Kizer. And this was w itten in Mill Valley, C lifornia.

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Enlightenment should come easily noting the absence of wind but it's a measuring worth on an ivy lean- excuse me- it's a measuring worm on an ivy leaf that attracts attention. The yellow cap has gone to see the white cap, petals of four kinds

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of Camilia fall gracefully into sadness and there's nothing to improve the extravagant silence. Flowing through silk sleeves are all memories of previous things. And the pine tree beyond the garden is seen again to be a resting place for birds who come

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no nearer. Morton Marcus: Very nice, great. Yeah, that the the silk sleeves image is just gorgeous. Robert Peterson: I got lucky that day. Let me see that

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there's maybe one more in that vein. A bird poem, yes. This was called ‘’Sparrow‘’ Not especially in the Chinese mode, but just one of my favorite poems about a bird. And again, I think this was written in Mill Valley

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SPARROW Let it rest on my hand a moment in the sun, like a warm leaf, cooled by late summer rain, and fold the fingers lightly in, and as one, for no reason, hurls a convenient stone, fling it blind

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beyond the trees into the wind, as far as I can. A passing regret, a silent turn, a minor grief. Look away from these. Let them end before this small death comes to earth, among my neighbors plums and mint.

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Morton Marcus: It's lovely. Robert Peterson: And then there's one other I thought I just would kind of like to read, which is one of my Ritsos variations. And I might mention again, Yannis Ritsos, the great

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late Greek poet who is another hero of mine, who taught me a lot, and who I felt was a kind of soulmate, we would have had a lot to talk about if we ever met. I never did meet him, I came close, I think once or twice. And these- this- in this

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book, "The Only Piano Player in La Paz," I have three variations on themes by Yannis Ritsos and this is the third one, which is my favorite. And let's see what else I might say about this. It's about the past and nostalgia and regrets, as well

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as a kind of attempt to catch Ritsos‘ own style and kind of pay homage to him that way. It's- it's called: 30 VARIATION on a theme by Ritsos Because the letter from an unknown correspondent is somehow

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interrupted, because too many eager volunteers arrive for a man hunt, because dexterity of the magician would tame doves and trunks, because wise cats and larks appear and disappear as they please, because of your splendid ignorance of the game,

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because of my fascination with the elusive shadows of the contestants, because a confused bamboo chime knocks in the wind to its true nature, because yesterday sky was never as close as it seemed, because even fast friendship can turn quite

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overnight, because even so, our first evening star softens immediate sorrow, because of all this, I asked you to trust me, trust me not to think of what we should have done. Morton Marcus: Captures him, it captures him, thank you.

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Robert Peterson: Now, now then. Morton Marcus: Now, now then, well, um, you know, I usually I ask them, poets to tell me what they want to talk about. And we got so wrapped up here that I didn't do that. So what would

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you like to say, certainly say about the new book, and we get- we should go into that and- Robert Peterson: All right- Morton Marcus: Let people see what- what it's about. Now this

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actually are -these are poems by and large, maybe 99% of them, that really have been written in around the last three years. Robert Peterson: Yes, I think the oldest is probably not more than three years old. And let's see, well, I think I'll kind of

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work backwards and just say that I'm extremely, not only happy with the job that Pennyloose Press did on this, but grateful to those chaps who are back in Brooklyn, in Boston, who- who read this manuscript and elected to print it at a period when I

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was beginning to wonder, as you know, you've been through those periods, but what was- whether anybody was ever going to print it. And then- so it's- it's a book that that feels- felt good when I got the sequence the way I wanted it. It's a book in

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which I had a lot of fun with, as you know, a couple of long- longer poems that- or longer than everything I attempted before. Morton Marcus: Oh, really? Is that true?

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Robert Peterson: Yup Morton Marcus: Even longer than, you know, ‘’How I Became a Poet‘’? Robert Peterson: Oh, yes, it was longer than that.

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Morton Marcus: And, well, you're gonna have to read both of them, then. Robert Peterson: Oh, well Morton Marcus: This is probably in the second half of the show.

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But yeah, that'd be great. [Cross talk] Robert Peterson: One of them anyway. And generally, I feel that it's, you know, I'm really happy with the work I did here, and- and I'm excited enough about it so that I've already

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started working on another book. But go on from here, not to duplicate it, but to go on from it. As somebody who was really just like [unidentified] a writer, I enjoy a lot said, you must- we must persist. So I could talk a lot about

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persistence too. But otherwise I just saw once again want to Pennyloose for doing this and tell again I'll happy they've made me and how happier brought me here and look at me. I'm, I'm a happy man, if you ever saw one.

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Morton Marcus: He certainly is, folks, I can verify that this is not TV, so I have to keep this commentary going. He is a happy man. Robert Peterson: Yeah, so, you think now it'd be a good time to

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read the title poem from- Probably take- take us up to a half an hour anyway. Morton Marcus: Um, you think Robert Peterson: We could save it till later?

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Morton Marcus: "All The Time in the World?" Yeah, I would save it till later use. It's gonna take longer than you think. Robert Peterson: Yeah. Morton Marcus: So let's do one or two.

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Robert Peterson: How about a couple of the Oaxaca poems? Morton Marcus: Yeah, certainly. I want to get in ‘’Highway 175,‘’ which has become one of my favorite Peterson poems. Robert Peterson: All right.

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Morton Marcus: I think it just- it just hits you suddenly like such a wallop when you let it's- it's evident when you realize what's happening in it. And it's just- Robert Peterson: I know, I'll close this with that. Okay,

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first I'll read a couple the other way. But maybe I'll read the first poem in the book really, a kind of identity poem. It's called PUERTO IN HELL

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Pantheon(?) beach. While we nonchalantly bounce, tumble, and massage this way and that, head over heels, no hands for no good reason. Now you see me, now you don't, gambling in a chiropractic undertow, the significance of this amniotic

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ecstasy, perhaps I finally found my essential self [unidentified] Whatchamacallit. Morton Marcus: And when I read that I said that's exactly what he is.

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Robert Peterson: And I have not really- this next one I have not really read to anyone before called ‘’Zocalo.‘’ And, here, I might mention for younger people in the audience that Fred C. Dobbs is a famous Humphrey Bogart character who was the

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fortune hunter in the wonderful movie ‘’Treasure of Sierra Madre‘’ And I should also mention that it ends with a mention of dog rose thorns. This is really not hyphenated as it is in the book. The dog rose is a kind of rose, which

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symbolically stands for pleasure mixed with pain. And I hyphenated in here because I didn't want people to think that dog was a kind of adjective. So- Morton Marcus: And the Zocalo?

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Robert Peterson: Zocalo is the Plaza in Oaxaca. Yes, that's a plaza, the main plaza. And I also might mention that some people might be a little confused on having some fun here with identity switches, and changing voices as it were

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midstream. So in the middle of the poem, I start out in my voice, and I become another voice in the poem, and it was a kind of triple somersault. And I didn't know if it would work or not, but I think it does, at least for the Hanging Loose

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editors. So: ZOCALO We decided he's not quite all there. This gritty little guy with his bandit hat, sclerotic grins and plastic pistol, slowly

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but surely pulling mocks- mock stickups for nickels, pesos and dimes, at tourist tables. And since it's what one is free to do on holiday, I put myself in his shoes under his hat, as it were, under the portales, and discover I'm there all right.

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No, are we doing this for kicks? You might even say that merely pretending to scare and rob people who can't say much more than ‘’yes, please,‘’ ‘’no,‘’ ‘’soon,‘’ and ‘’later‘’ in my native speech, and who in turn, if I make all the right moves

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and don't screw up, agree to impersonate the hapless victim, is from almost any point of view not exactly child's play, but as Robin Hood, John Doe, or even Fred, C. Dobbs might put it in English, all in a day's work, my little bit of dog rose thorn.

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And this next one is a little earlier, but anyway, it's called- it's in a lighter vein, called INGLESIA DE SAN FRANCISCO. And of course when I mentioned Francis in this poem, I'm talking about San Francisco's

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patron Saint- Saint Francis of Assisi. Alone and content with idle thoughts on a weekday afternoon, suddenly being scolded in Spanish by furious female with cane for slouching like a barbarian in her sanctuary. A

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poor vieja outrace by solitary extranjero possibly praying or not praying in English in sport shorts. An old friend of Francis stalling for time, I have shrugged and prepare a not guilty plea. Holy smoke, life is hard, I may have no choice but

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to try and forgive both her and myself simultaneously by a silent lack of will from a sitting position. Morton Marcus: And we are talking and will continue to talk with Robert Peterson, author of the new book ‘’All the

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Time in The World,‘’ his ninth book, and he will be reading from that book and reading and book signing at the Capitola Book Cafe, this Tuesday at 9:30. We will read more of them and the longer poems when we come back, but now we will take a

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musical break. This is Morton Marcus on The Poetry Show again, just two announcements. First of all, next Friday at Loud Nelson Community Center, it is Women's History Month, and the Monthly

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Poetry Series there, and they are featuring the wonderful poets, four wonderful poets Shirley Ancheta, Ellen Bass, Lynn Kennedy, and Maude Meehan. Maude who will be a guest on the show on April 19, when her Selected Poems will be the

00:32:25.710 - 00:32:44.700

subject of our show, and will be out by then, do look forward to that. These are four very different, very individual poets, it should be a wonderful night 7:30pm Friday, March 29, 1996, that is next Friday, at the Louden Nelson Center at

00:32:44.700 - 00:33:02.910

7:30, so be there. And then a little farther on the now very, very popular Tuesday night readings at the Bookshop Santa Cruz, Roz Spafford and Charles Atkinson, two wonderful poets. Roz has been writing for a lot of different newspapers, as a

00:33:02.910 - 00:33:20.040

lot of publications. Charles Atkinson's first book only the cure- only- ‘’The Only Cure I Know‘’ won the American Book Series Award, and ‘’The West on Fire‘’ his second volume won the Waylynn Press Chapel Competition in 1992. Marvelous poets so

00:33:20.040 - 00:33:32.490

there's- poetry is alive and well. And before we get back to our guest for the evening, I want to thank everyone out there because it has to be the audience out there, I can't imagine who else did it, who voted me best poet in Santa Cruz

00:33:32.490 - 00:33:55.260

County for 1996 and I am very touched. So thank you very much. And for you people down in the Carmel, Monterey region, I will be on April, I believe it will be April 12, I will be down at the Thunderbird Bookshop reading with John Schatz and that will

00:33:55.260 - 00:34:11.220

be at 7:30. So you can put that on your calendar. But anyway, we are right now back to the wonderful poet, Robert Peterson, whose new book ‘’All the Time in the World‘’ we will read from, I think exclusively from now on, and who will be reading from it,

00:34:12.120 - 00:34:27.540

his ninth book, at again, the Capitola Book Cafe 7:30. This Tuesday night out on 41st Avenue in Santa Cruz. So Bob, take it away whatever you want to read, it's your- Robert Peterson: Well, I promised to read ‘’Highway 175‘’

00:34:27.540 - 00:34:37.770

for you from from the Oaxaca series Morton Marcus: From the Oaxaca Series. Okay. Robert Peterson: And a couple of points in his poem, there are some of these statements are in quotes and I just leave it to

00:34:37.770 - 00:34:46.710

listen to decide which those are, I don't think I want to say quote, I think I'll just let the listener decide where those come. HIGHWAY 176

00:34:46.720 - 00:35:07.090

Slow down, driving south in the rain, no other cars. Should we stop? A procession wordlessly, slowly, north, in file, mostly adults, men and women in nondescript but clean campesino cloths. Father first, balancing a small coffin on the left

00:35:07.090 - 00:35:31.060

shoulder with his right hand, with the left, like a flag man, he motion us on, they all do. No other cars. Should we stop? At the end, one men with a Zapata moustache, playing an invulnerable accordion. Try not to stare. All we hear is a

00:35:31.060 - 00:35:50.710

whisper of Nissan wipers. You don't see something like this every day. And I can live with it. Of course, we should stop. Morton Marcus: And if I may do one of my Marcus interpreting jobs, it's such a marvelous poem because you set up ‘’should we

00:35:51.130 - 00:36:11.050

stop‘’ which gets repeated three times in the poem. And it's just one of these little scenes that any tourist is liable to see. And it unfolds. Obviously a real tragedy with a father carrying the coffin. And you don't say this, you just show it, you just

00:36:11.050 - 00:36:28.360

show it, of his little child. And ‘’should we stop? Where- where do we stand,‘’ you know, driving down the highway, all these people are walking and when you finally get to the ‘’should we stop‘’ at the end of the poem, and say, ‘’of course,

00:36:28.390 - 00:36:47.470

we should stop,‘’ suddenly, the poem becomes not one of tourists in another land, but of the common humanity that we all share, and the respect that we should have for each other in our humaneness and very, very moving in that wonderfully

00:36:47.770 - 00:37:00.030

understated way that you can do things and that I just respect so much. Robert Peterson: Excuse me, I could- I could make one more comment on your comments, which is that this- this poem, this

00:37:00.030 - 00:37:18.570

form has always fascinated me, and when I would be teaching was amazing sometimes. I would- I would tell people, if- You don't worry about- The people who are worried about how to start a poem, or people that were discouraged because they've made

00:37:18.570 - 00:37:34.380

so many attempts at a poem and tried to say something that they already cited about an event, and I would say, "You just don't know how much of reality is revealed in banal facts, which seemingly banal things and if you will just take any

00:37:34.380 - 00:37:45.600

situation, take yourself someplace and write down the most banal things you can think of about what you're seeing, and you'll be surprised how often this will turn into a poem if you if you observe, honestly."

00:37:47.520 - 00:37:57.510

Morton Marcus: Some good advice, and there have been people who have been lucky enough to have Bob as a teacher. You are poet-in-residence at Reed College in Portland, where you will be reading next month-

00:37:57.540 - 00:38:06.450

Robert Peterson: Right. Morton Marcus: -from the new book. What are some of the other things that you've done along those lines? Robert Peterson: Oh, I ran for a while, I ran a downtown workshop

00:38:06.450 - 00:38:21.900

for San Franscisco State, a poetry workshop, some time after I left there. I've been- done poetry in the schools, mostly out in New Mexico when I was living in Taos. Morton Marcus: There was the Willamette Gig [Cross talk]

00:38:23.580 - 00:38:32.130

Robert Peterson: Thanks for mentioning that. I was, two years in a row Morton Marcus: You need me as your press agent. Robert Peterson: In the early 90s, I did two sessions at

00:38:32.130 - 00:38:51.870

Williamette University in Salem, Oregon, as writer in residence for a period of about six weeks each. Meeting, reading and hanging out in classes and talking with students. Morton Marcus: That's it. Okay, great. Shall we go on because

00:38:51.870 - 00:38:57.600

you know, the unfortunate thing is that the hour goes- Robert Peterson: All right. Morton Marcus: -I'm positive twice as fast on this show as anywhere else in the universe.

00:38:58.350 - 00:39:16.440

Robert Peterson: I might think- I might renege on my- my offer or determination to read the title poem because I haven't read it before and my voice is not too hot tonight. And I'm not sure, I'm afraid I might botch it. It doesn't mean I don't

00:39:16.440 - 00:39:31.020

stand behind the poem, but there are some others that I would like to read instead, one of them being ‘’Nolo Contender‘’ Morton Marcus: Okay. Robert Peterson: Which is next and in this poem, I'm talking

00:39:31.020 - 00:39:50.310

about two parakeet type birds called lorikeets, l-o-r-i-k-e-e-t-s. And it's in two parts, I'll just pause at to the end of the first part and of course, I'm making- commenting now, this is refers to a new phenomenon or just the new

00:39:50.310 - 00:40:05.190

popularity here of exotic jungle birds. Now that the jungles are disappearing, there's a new market for these- these exotic birds as pets. So this is NOLO CONTENDERE

00:40:05.640 - 00:40:29.250

Direct from Tasmania for sale in Pet World, a mated pair, poker faced lorikeets side by side, fetching colors, cheap cage. New vagabonds drifters, I imagine a sign, "Will work for food." Poise bonded with patience, of course I want to do something.

00:40:30.240 - 00:40:49.440

Hold it, this whole predicament is a mini fantasy I only presume to identify poise, patience, what can I know? As any fool can see, I can't even kiss them goodbye. Morton Marcus: Bob, would it be too much for your voice to ask

00:40:49.440 - 00:41:04.380

you to do? ‘’The Victoria Hotel‘’- ‘’Hotel Victoria‘’ Robert Peterson: No, no I- Morton Marcus: These- this is really just a terrifically wry meditation on the transitory, and it‘s power. And I- you know,

00:41:05.160 - 00:41:18.360

it's amazing the age we live in. But I think you're gonna have to tell even who is the central character of this poem, because I bet a lot of people out there, especially the younger people, do not know, even though it seems like yesterday.

00:41:18.960 - 00:41:34.470

Robert Peterson: The central poem here is is the former Shah of Iran, who was- whose real name was Mohammed Reza Pahlavi, who's dead now; he died of cancer. And that's sort of dealt with in the poem. So is that okay, shall we go on from there?

00:41:34.500 - 00:41:48.240

Morton Marcus: Sure. And you know, you did say something about, you know, hotels have a special [inaudible] interview. Robert Peterson: Yes, I. It's true that, like other people collect old coins on mass and old China and whatever, I grew

00:41:48.240 - 00:42:07.320

up in a hotel, so wherever I go, the first thing I do is to collect some hotels in a place I'm in and this happened to be the one of the big hotels in Oaxaca. I also, I think, told you that this- this particular hotel poem reflects the fact,

00:42:07.320 - 00:42:22.770

which has been sort of central to my personal life, which is, I start out in a hotel, and I get interested in the people in it, as I did in one, the first one I lived in, and then they go out and make journeys and come back, and have adventures and come

00:42:22.770 - 00:42:35.110

back to the hotel again. And that's a kind of metaphor for my my life as I it's going so far. HOTEL VICTORIA Here I am in the Victoria Hotel, not officially

00:42:35.110 - 00:42:50.350

registered, but admiring the view, not smiling, but not unhappy either. On this very spot in the spacious lobby, marked by a handsome bronze plaque. The Shah of Iran, smiling for photographers, as the powerful monarch he was,

00:42:50.650 - 00:43:08.530

also admired the view that summer of 1976. First I imagined the pleasant vista south towards Tlacolula, then with, as one might expect, important private matters always in mind, absent mindedly east. I wonder if Mohammed Reza Pahlavi came to

00:43:08.530 - 00:43:23.920

Oaxaca for large or small reasons, and how long he stayed here? Did he visit one or two of the 27 churches? Did he sleep well? Did he enjoy the street life, tour the markets, linger in gift shops and museums, give alms to the poor, and sitting in

00:43:23.920 - 00:43:42.010

good seats in Sombra, attend a few corridas de toros? Did he try out his Spanish or use a translator? Pay his bill in full in cash, perhaps even gold? Not forgetting to tip the maids or did he charge the whole Imperial [unidentified] to Iranian

00:43:42.010 - 00:44:02.320

taxpayer? Maybe he was comped by management out of timidity, timidez, or to keep it simple, simply, or for the free publicity, or by mistake [unidentified] and no reals or pesos whatsoever. changed hands And where did he and his

00:44:02.320 - 00:44:21.040

immediate private party plus attendant bookkeepers, vassals, masseurs, and bodyguards go from here? Washington, DC, I should imagine. Otherwise, maybe by private jet, straight back to Baghdad. Wait a minute, a friend has informed me he couldn't

00:44:21.040 - 00:44:37.840

return to Baghdad because Baghdad is a capital- capital of Iraq. We now know that theoretically, he would have returned to Tehran, but in fact, couldn't because we're informed he'd been deposed. So that the matters on his mind, though

00:44:37.840 - 00:44:51.910

probably no less important from his point of view, are of different colors and shapes and implications and different implications from the ones we imagined earlier. It now appears to be a distinct possibility that by the time of the

00:44:51.910 - 00:45:05.200

installation of the plaque, Mohammed Reza Pahlavi was in fact no longer on the Iranian throne, even though it's still in possession of another- of the normal appurtenances of a functioning Shah, including bookkeepers, vassals, and so

00:45:05.200 - 00:45:21.400

forth, to satisfy not only the Hotel Victoria management and your average Mexican men in the street, but also strollers and seekers like myself. However, further research reveals that the friend was mistaken. He was not deposed and remained in

00:45:21.400 - 00:45:38.860

power until January 16, 1979. Left voluntarily after naming a region. No problem, she meant well. I was also reminded over martinis and peanuts by the same friend that around the same time, Pahlavi was diagnosed with cancer and began looking for a

00:45:38.860 - 00:45:54.190

friendly country where he could unpack, settle down and shop around for some decent treatment. But we now know that this too happened later. At the time of the bronze plaque in 1976, the Shah was still extensively healthy. When I

00:45:54.190 - 00:46:09.130

walked into the Victoria lobby a little while ago, I was totally unprepared for the sobering experience of such sharp changes of mood, these impromptu breaks in concentration and continuity. However, as long as we're on the subject, the record might as

00:46:09.130 - 00:46:21.220

well show that when the time did come, even though his manners were impeccable, and he could afford to go first class, because of serious allegations of the abuse of human rights by his administration, there were strong objections to granting

00:46:21.220 - 00:46:42.760

him asylum in the free world by various groups and individuals of one persuasion or another. It was probably inevitable. All of a sudden, I'm keenly personally aware of the deep fatigue ultimately experienced by all bodyguards, bookkeepers,

00:46:43.000 - 00:47:01.660

translators, photographers, masseur, vassals, storytellers, and brass players. If conceived by the same friend, this poem addressing, I imagine, similar aspects of power, fame, wealth, geography, foreign exchang, identity, curiosity, self

00:47:01.660 - 00:47:16.870

confidence, good advice, mortality, and the passage of Mexican time would probably begin earlier or [unidentified] later in a different place, far from the lobby of the Hotel Victoria with a new cast of characters, perhaps not in

00:47:16.870 - 00:47:35.320

Oaxaca, or when all is said and done even in Mexico. But as I was saying, right now, here I am in the lobby of the Victoria Hotel around noon, with no special plans, admiring the view to the south, towards Tlacolula, not smiling, but not unhappy

00:47:35.000 - 00:47:51.950

Morton Marcus: And I am going to write a review of this book and either. I may use as the epigraph for it, ‘’Not smiling, but not unhappy either,‘’ the story of Bob Peterson.

00:47:52.910 - 00:48:02.090

Robert Peterson: I wouldn't object to that. Morton Marcus: I didn't think you would. I'm sure you were very happy when you came up with those two lines. Robert Peterson: As- well, I could go on about that because,

00:48:02.090 - 00:48:18.890

as you know, I have an off time smiling for photographers, and many of my friends love, love to tease me about it and with justification. So that's sort of part of where that line came from.

00:48:18.960 - 00:48:28.590

Morton Marcus: Please, we've got 10 minutes which is really a lot of time. Do read poems that you- you know, really would like to read Robert Peterson: All right, I think I'll read one called ‘’A

00:48:28.620 - 00:48:46.930

Tug of War,‘’ Which is a story about something that happened in Capitola when I was living there: A TUG OF WAR Determined to go west on foot on Beverly Street. A towhead tad in

00:48:46.930 - 00:49:08.470

a titanic temper tantrum. Picked up smartly, in stride, by calm mom and kicking air flown east under strong mom arm. The heart of the only eyewitness goes out to the poor little bastard and his blown plans and lost face on this dark afternoon in December,

00:49:08.800 - 00:49:25.810

not only visibly beaten, but utterly and completely out of viable options. And let's see, I haven't read this one before. Wow. I guess ‘’The Golden Globe Restaurant.‘’

00:49:25.990 - 00:49:41.550

Morton Marcus: Oh, marvelous. Yeah. Robert Peterson: And this is- was an experiment and a more prosy sort of deadpan style, I guess. It's called: THE GOLDEN GLOBE RESTAURANT in New York, Arizona. And at the

00:49:41.550 - 00:49:54.610

time, I took the notes for it, it really was there in a way that is described in the poem. A brown dot on the desert you can spot from at least five miles away. Back in 71, the sign said, "Watch for grand opening."

00:49:55.090 - 00:50:12.250

This one says, "Keep out, trespassers will be prosecuted." An actual globe of wood and steel about 200 feet in circumference and at least three stories high on the east side of Route 66. Was it ever truly gold? I wonder? Did the master

00:50:12.250 - 00:50:29.680

plan include a bar, music, entertainment? I hear muzak, and I see a maitre'd dressed as Magellan and waitresses wearing themed skirts, blouses, and aprons patterned after maps of the world with cute equitorial contours. Somewhere on the menu,

00:50:29.800 - 00:50:47.650

they would say, "Have a ball." Seating to make the most of this kind of curved space; patrons will have no choice but to perch perilously on ramps or on spiral cantilevered shelves, but will this encourage relaxed dining? Open to question, and what about

00:50:47.650 - 00:51:02.920

the kitchen, I can't see it. Sanitary facilities, how could you have an inconspicuous restroom in a place like this, and I have to hope the architect gave due consideration to a proper septic tank. Hired help, the cooks and waiters would have

00:51:02.920 - 00:51:17.290

a long drive home, take my word for it. Yucca is in the middle of nowhere. I see holes in a sphere that seemed to have been intended to be skylights, maybe only ventilators, but not a single window, not unusual in stylish restaurants, but in this

00:51:17.290 - 00:51:30.940

case, perhaps a serious flaw in design. Between courses or drinks one might like to not only speculate on filled diners across the room, but idly or moodily observe the ebb and flow of interstate highway traffic. Other things being equal with

00:51:30.940 - 00:51:45.400

Southwestern sunset is almost always a treat too. On the other hand, maybe the architect figured, if you have nothing but desert in all directions it would conflict with his intended global or cosmic theme. Maybe the so-called architect was an

00:51:45.400 - 00:51:58.780

amateur small town dreamer. Before they put up the no trespassing signs, I used to think of making a leisurely investigation, circumnavigating the [unidentified] globe as it were to try and get a better feeling for the possibilities

00:51:58.990 - 00:52:13.390

for the future of the place. But going west, I'm anxious to get off the Mojave and relax in a pool in Barstow, and heading east to my home in Albuquerque, I like to overnight in Flagstaff so I never stopped. If Golden Glow were open I can‘t honestly

00:52:13.390 - 00:52:28.480

say if I stopped or not. Certainly not for lunch, too grand for lunch. As for dinner, I usually like to get off Route 66 before dark. And if I knew anything about restaurants, Golden Globe would be almost certainly pricey. With or

00:52:28.480 - 00:52:41.860

without air conditioning the cooks would, I predict, be underpaid, unhappy and mean, half drunk most of the time, as would many of the customers who would also be chronically or seriously dizzy, quarrelsome, and road weary. There could be

00:52:41.860 - 00:52:54.370

serious misunderstandings between claustrophobic help and disoriented customers. It might even be occasionally necessary to dial Highway Patrol, the local sheriff or some other branch of law enforcement, perhaps the promoters of record

00:52:54.520 - 00:53:11.620

don't even live in the US. Maybe up to a point Globe was finance by Arab oil or opium money from Cambodia or Hong Kong, and maybe everyone passed the buck when the time came to get down to brass tax about decent wages and water. It may be some time

00:53:11.620 - 00:53:29.050

before I pass this way again. So here's where I say so long. And goodbye. I think I've all done all I can for Golden Globe. Yep. And so what do we have? A few? Morton Marcus: Five. Yeah.

00:53:29.000 - 00:53:47.240

Robert Peterson: Well, then I'll read this letter to the editor, a reduction, which came out of a job I had, as you know, here when I was living in Capitola, working for a vanity publishing house, and wherein I had to process many of the poems that

00:53:47.300 - 00:54:05.720

were submitted, which not always, but sometimes included these letters, these cover letters, which evidently and sensationally were often where the poetry was, in the letter explaining the poems, so I redacted these. In other words,

00:54:06.020 - 00:54:20.120

I left out things that detracted from the spirit of the poetry, I never added anything, so these are called redactions in that sense; that's why they are called: REDACTION. And this is one of my favorites.

00:54:21.320 - 00:54:36.620

Morton Marcus: I would like to explain the inspiration for this complicated poem. My cat, Daisy, has a lot to do with my impatience. I have this ambition to do something more than love her. I woke early experiencing an after Christmas letdown, the

00:54:36.620 - 00:54:52.190

FM radio was on. Love me Just love me no matter what I do, Daisy was saying. My god, how I petted and loved her, I am important to this creature. Maybe I will have to put aside my ambition to be important in the world with people. In the

00:54:52.190 - 00:55:08.990

third stanza, we have my rheumatoid arthritic condition and sore left knee. Unless I start loving my body and knee at least as much as Daisy, the treatments won't help, no matter how much they cost. In the last stanza when I say, "the power of

00:55:08.990 - 00:55:28.400

love turned loose," I do not mean sex. Plants as well as babies need love. This poem is a gift to the healing arts. My doctor likes it. Personally, I hope this is the last complicated poem I will ever be called upon to write. They're

00:55:28.400 - 00:55:47.390

are too much work and take up entirely too much time. Great. And could I ask you to end this session, if it's alright, with some of these marvelous Haiku-like poems, or the last section of your book called ‘’31 Watermelon Seeds.‘’

00:55:47.420 - 00:55:59.060

And, you know, another thing is that these- these poems are marvelous on the paper, but they just really come alive when you read them. Robert Peterson: These watermelon seeds are called that

00:55:59.060 - 00:56:18.140

because they are basically my version of the Haiku form. I have written some Haiku but I found- I didn't like the idea of trying to stay in a classic form, that's sort of- the story of a lot of things in my life, so I it just began to write

00:56:18.140 - 00:56:34.400

these short poems that which [unidentified] ended when I felt like it, and they're called WATERMELON SEEDS and they don't have any titles, so- All we need now, old friend, our daughters playing peekaboo.

00:56:37.190 - 00:56:58.580

A bad play, one good actor, his consummate incredulity. When I couldn't start that dumb fire in the wilderness, and you almost walked out. Behold beauty, sad, quiet eye shining, white cockatoo.

00:57:01.310 - 00:57:26.090

A Welk waltz mother might have hummed. Days like this, diaries just don't cut it. Psycho see new thin moon, ah yes, oh, we, um, hmm same old stars.

00:57:28.790 - 00:57:49.130

Blasting by at 75, bareheaded lovers on a Harley. Dart in, dither out, Twilight's swell, hems my picture perfect mantra. Out of vinegar, missed you a little, by the sink.

00:57:51.040 - 00:58:08.680

In a war dream, playing dead. Sudden whim to try and love every last beam in the walk. Long soak in the tub, sort of convinced I did the right thing. And finally:

00:58:09.040 - 00:58:20.520

Ah, Puccini, your problems are mine. Morton Marcus: We have been talking to Bob Peterson but I'm not gonna, I'm going to ask you to read one more. Robert Peterson: Okay.

00:58:20.600 - 00:58:40.220

Morton Marcus: And that is actually the last one in the series, which is, again one of these classic Bob Peterson lines that defines you throughout your poetic, and I would therefore say personal life as well. And it's the very last one in that

00:58:40.220 - 00:58:47.210

series. Robert Peterson: The very last one in that series. Morton Marcus: Yeah. Robert Peterson: I just go wherever the clothes take me.

00:58:47.700 - 00:59:04.290

Morton Marcus: That's it. We've been talking with Bob Peterson, who is down in Santa Cruz to celebrate his new book ‘’All the Time in the World‘’ which has just come out. In fact, is this your first series of readings on your tour with a book?

00:59:04.410 - 00:59:18.170

Robert Peterson: It's a very first, very first Morton Marcus: Great and marvelous, so you have a chance for a first to come this Tuesday night at 7:30 to the Capitola Book Cafe and hear Bob Peterson read from his new, his ninth

00:59:18.170 - 00:59:33.890

book, and I have him sign a copy for you, and purchase it because it is also a book signing. And I will be there, and I hope to see you there. This is Morton Marcus again on The Poetry Show. Bob, thank you so much for coming on tonight. I know you're tired.

00:59:33.890 - 00:59:47.290

It's been a great pleasure Mort. It's always great to see you, and happily I'll be spending some time with you in the next couple of days. Hope to see many of you on Tuesday night again this Friday, the wonderful

00:59:47.350 - 01:00:07.840

reading by Shirley Ancheta, Ellen Bass, Lynn Kennedy, and Maude Meehan at the Loudon Nelson Community Center, 7:30 for Women's History Month. And stay tuned now for the Sunday night special "Race in America." This week KUSPS Sunday night

01:00:07.840 - 01:00:18.520

special will be composed of four half hour programs on the racial issue. Thank you very much. This is Morton Marcus again, signing out.