Tag: rod mckuen

Rod McKuen, Part Twenty-Seven of “Listen to the Warm”


The fireflies gone now
the trees low bending
with the weight of winter rain
I listen for the sound of winters past.
The years I walked the rainy streets
and filtered through the parks
in search of music people.
Creeping home to bed alone
to be with imaginary lovers
and hear the sound of Eden
singing in my young ears.

I could go back to San Francisco
if I still had muscled thighs.
The trouble is
I run a little faster now.

* * *

Ah, hello Mr. McKuen! I knew we’d make it to you eventually. This is from his book of the same name, Listen to the Warm. I like picking this book up from time to time because his poetry is so unaffected. He just writes. Writes beautiful, sorrowful, erotic, melancholic poems. He doesn’t hide things behind too much metaphor, imagery, or other poetic tricks. I really like that sometimes, that unadulterated take on poetry. Which isn’t to say that it’s boring. He can turn a phrase too. Like “hear the sound of Eden / singing in my young ears” or that enigmatic ending. I also like this book because my good friend Jared gave it to me, inscribed and everything, and I like to remember the people who give me books when I’m reading them. It adds that secondary layer of thought and attention to your reading.