we all have true stories, like when i tried out for varsity tennis in jeans & docksiders, loved the sport, not the apparel, then there is kevin bacon, degrees of separation, i have exes, true, & yes, they too dated others, so who are my ex-girlfriend’s exes? another true story about tennis, the first guy was #13 in the world, 1991, the second played for amherst, me? i was varsity for three years, (but my real claim to fame was beating craig brown when i was in middle school, he was the washington golf & country club champ, threw his racket 100 feet out of the fenced in court after i pushed him for 40 minutes), but i digress, end the suspense, guy uno, derrick rostagno, you wouldn’t remember him, the other? well maybe, he was kind of a big deal, emphasis on was, preterite, not now alive, & not a good person to the woman i was once with, david foster wallace, he loved tennis too, now that i think of it, we could be in a dumas novel playing canadian doubles, i’d probably lose.
Month: October 2025
When I Applied To NYC Bookstores (1995)
don’t wear your l.l. bean parka to the interview, you look like a b & t, (bridge & tunnel person), not from the nyc, but that was me & my american studies degree, gatsby, hemingway, salinger, bell jar, norton’s anthology, smart kid, i actually cut off the l.l. bean label, kinda punk, kinda just whatever, brandless living in the village, enter the strand, barely glanced at me, colby kid, or dartmouth, or michigan, or name your generic mainstream college, i wasn’t sarah lawrence or bard, or maybe oberlin, khakis & bucks, yuppie, you are not hired, place was a maze anyway, books stacked everywhere, chaos, dusty chaos, enter st. mark’s, east village, pretentious, pretentious, pretentious, horn-rimmed glasses, scrutinize through me, that look, you know nothing kid, this is new york city, mecca, the edge, no instant rejection, ok fine, take this piece of paper, write down five books that we must have in the store, be ready to tell me why, uh ok, short stories of flannery o’connor, in our time, go tell it on the mountain, captain’s verses, remember, i was smart, wanted to cover all bases, gender, identity, writing style, number 5? the quran, why? no idea really, lots of muslims in the world? are any of your authors still alive? um, um, well, no, thanks for applying kid, enter barnes & noble astor place, huge building, flagship store, this is november, christmas coming, standard one-page application, fill it out, we will call you, place was busy, packed, they called, i answered, my first paid job in new york.
Pomponio Beach
The Pacific Coast journey continues! Today we explored Pomponio Beach and had lunch in Pescadero.
Battle of the 80’s Angst Bands
call it new wave, alternative, college radio, call it teenager, ripped concert t-shirt, acid washed jeans, call it cassette tapes, call it you don’t understand what i’m feeling, call it violent femmes- they’ll hurt me bad, but i won’t mind, call it the cure- boys don’t cry, call it yaz, echo & the bunnymen, love & rockets, call it electronic keyboard, call it the smiths- it takes guts to be gentle and kind, call it whitewall shaved head, call it depeche mode- words are very unnecessary, call it joy division, they knew, love will tear us apart… again, who won the battle? i guess we all did, when michael jackson-madonna-wham pop came up short, the angst bands understood who we really were.
Beauty In The Drive
before my severe bulging disc-osteophyte i never understood rv’s, those people who drive through the grand tetons without actually hiking the trails, like the 90% of yosemite visitors who don’t leave the paved paths, but as my anterolisthesis continues to slip, i view life differently, i now see wheelchairs & sitting people, i never assume anything anymore, i used to think non-walkers were lazy, that not standing was weak, why drive when you can run? walk? bike? now i cry when watching documentaries about disabled people, my people, my new story, i used to hike miles and miles with my son, now i barely walk at all, but i can still drive down highway 1, pacific coast, alongside surf, crashing waves, seals, pelicans, whales, you get the drift, the past is over, no time machine is coming to get me, like fugazi said, you can’t be what you were, so you better start being, just what you are, so now i drive, there is beauty in the drive.
When I Sued Sting
enough of the englishman in new york, ashtanga practicing, burning man partygoer, king of pain pretty boy, $300 million from universal music for his whole catalogue in 2022, as if he did it alone, ‘77-’84, i was there, on guitar, his vocals only went so far, a friend saw him in chile w/james taylor, 1994, dodgy performance, truly, taylor blew him away, not even close, ok, sure, roxanne, just a drinking game really, i will concede message in a bottle, strong song, but every breath you take was mine, not just his, he says i got paid in 2016, but the serious money came in later, ok, i probably don’t deserve a penny, but gimme.
Pillar Point Harbor
The Pacific Coast journey continues! Today we kayaked in the Pillar Point Harbor. Seals & sea lions were everywhere! Lunch was at La Costanera (Peruvian).
Seal Cove Trees
The Pacific Coast journey continues! Today we made it to Seal Cove Beach. This is a very mellow spot to swim.
When The Moon Spoke
don’t talk to me about cat stevens, i’m not following anyone, except the earth i guess, but don’t blame gravitational pull on me, i’m not here to illuminate your first kiss, that is love’s domain, craters aren’t my fault either, malicious kamikaze asteroids, neil armstrong’s one small step tickled, glad he & the other boys left, scarred me with their flag, took pieces of me, worthless rocks really, like whiskers shaved off in the sink, i will take credit for the tides, those undulating liquid waves, curling, crashing, little surfers smashing, love when they get barreled, even more when they wipeout, don’t trust my words, after all, i don’t care, you can stare up at me all you want, make your own meaning, i’m nothing without you.
Murmur of Pianos
mozart touched tusks, how often did he think about trunks, thick brownish-gray skin, when alive they reached out to one another, comforted, said hello, intelligent creatures, emphasis on creatures, hunted by the hundreds of thousands, dead after gunshot, 4-bore rifles held by money, by music, status symbol, steinway, chickering, must have a baby grand, or an upright in church, pray for the dead animals, they are the keys that ring out, beethoven’s moonlight sonata, chopin’s nocturne in e-flat major, tchaikovsky’s nutcracker suite, you name it, such beauty, haunting beauty, listen closely enough & you can hear their demise.
Daniel W. Polk 