There is a line
You can never step on twice
Where the Duwamish runs Green
The Puyallup Stuck White
The Cedar
           Falls

Where barracuda go to die
But salmon leap
To spawn forever
In the dreams
Of the dammed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1

Kent Auburn, private eye
Kang Lee, his man

Bonney Lake, the fiancee
Until Sumner
Came his way

The karaoke keystones
Cumberland, Kummer
And Krain

And Renton
That Renton
Whose Barbee Mill
Was one prime thrill
Of a woman

Or so she seemed

Al Gona, The Gopher
Joe Vita, The Muscle
Glen Dale, Boy Wonder
Kenny Dale, The Blunder
And Veazie?
Yeah, Veazie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2

--I’m no bigot, I’m a fist fighter
  But Kang Lee know kung-fu
Kent Auburn
Cracked pidgin
To show he was
One of them
Not of those

Kent Auburn
Nobody’s phony
Phoning was
For secretaries
--Lee, tell Al Gona
  To put a tail
  On Ravensdale

--We have a job, boss?
--A hunch from a quip
  On the tip line:

--Some nerve easy
  Rave end’s tale can ask it
  Boys, he saw your
  Water shed
  Cask aid
  To see

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3

Meanwhile, Bonney Lake
Taps out
At the Muckleshoot slots
Goes home to
Stick pins in
His prom photo face

Home over
The valley
Damned by the
Dammed of the
Damned

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4

He liked to play clever
Like he was dumb
To fool a square
Like Captain Cumberland

Karaoke Night at the City Hall
He popped
For a shot
While the keystones caterwauled

--I’m telling you, Auburn
  Don’t even scratch your ass
  Without clueing us in

--Well, if it isn’t the
  Quart-low Quartet
  Clue you in, Cumberland?
  Screw you in a light bulb
  And get your own idea.
  Hit it, boys

He dropped a dime
To make them sing
To fool around like
Cumberland, Kummer, and Krain

--Rafting and tubing
  While running the rapids
  Wading and swimming
  To liquidate assets
  Donning a wetsuit and pumped waterwings
  These are a few of my favorite things

  Mexico City
  The time of the conquest
  Kona or Fiji
  Right after a tempest
  Gondola taxis with wake ripplings
  These are a few of my favorite things

  When the land shakes
  And the dam breaks
  And I’m feeling small
  I think of a few of my favorite things
  And I don’t feel bad at all

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5

Sumner
The comely Sumner
She would stand
By, over
However
She knew
To do
Some thing
To him

--Kent
  Take care

Take care?
Care took
The take

So near to Bonney Lake,
She was
As near as
He was
To Barbee Mill

Whose number
Now number
Than pus if ick
Pacific
Could float
A boat in the
White lipstick
Stuck oozed
In his pocket

--Kent
  Can’t you tell me?

--I take the case
  I can’t
  Tell till
  I can say
  For sure

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6

Glen Dale, boy wonder
Wandered fast as
A plastic dashboard
Christopher on a Tacoma:
Thomas Guide
Missing Black Diamond
But Ravensdale
Where it used to be mist!
Or, Mr.
Franklin Bayne Covington
Would like to know
What the Mrs. misses
When he comes home from
The Turf Club

--If Landsburg, then Ravensdale.
  There in the
  Middle they’re
  By the Green
  Or Cedar

Kent Auburn, nobody’s cartographer
Took cues from
A boy wonder
Like a stooge without a stoolie
He couldn’t use a phone
To read a map
He couldn’t do a thing or two
Without his crew
To cruise the sloughs
Tukwila to Veazie to Enumclaw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7

Veazie drove the Gorge
Hanging Gardens
Flaming Geyser flood
Plain to see the silver
Lining the Green
Levees with bean

Bags, bagging a
Forty in his lap, packing a
Wallet on the hip
On a hillbilly trip
To the silly dollar valley

--Auburn, Veazie
  Got a tip on the third
  Have your boy call me
  If you wanna get lucky
  For now, here’s the word
  The mare’s affairs
  Are the stallion’s cares

Kent Auburn, nobody’s pick-up
Pick-ups were for b-girls
He was the man
On the machine
In his master’s voice
--Message for Kent Auburn?
   Leave it

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8

--Got fire?
She knew him well
Enough to know
He would

Like all the rest
She had his number
Leave it, heel
Shake, come
Good.  Biscuit.

He struck
She sucked
They stared
--The lake.  Look

The lake from a dive
In Renton
Without Renton
They saw from here
Her condo in a blaze
Of waves

Kent Auburn
Across from Barbee Mill
Without Renton in Renton
In a dive on the lake
On a dive in the lake

--Take me there
She puffed
He stood
He understood
A ride home

He said
--Let’s swim
--It’s too wet, far and
  I’m far too wet

The green plant jets
Leered in their primer prime
And Laugh Fitness buffed a shine
But no sign of Renton
As Renton
Glowered behind them
Kennydale to Barbee Mill

He had to ask
What he came for

Where they’d been
The Turtle Lounge
Neon scrounged
Black diamonds
Under where
The lake went on
And on and in

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

9

If Ravensdale
In haven’s vale
Threw out the trout
Throughout
The route
He took,
The brook
Might conceal
A herring in the creel

Going nowhere
Algona to Kangley to Veazie,
Glen Dale went digital
On the Kent Auburn line
--Consider the source

Veazie?
Yeah, Veazie
The Naco Knocker
The Kanaskat Kid
The Selleck Slick beyond Retreat

--You could unplug the waters’ head
  And take home a Tacoma watershed
  When the dam breaks
  The land’s lakes
  Run to Renton
  While Landsburg Black Diamond
  Ravensdale Covington
  Are islands
  High and
  Dry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

10

Sumner
The comely Sumner
Stranded between
Bonney Lake and Auburn
Buckley and Pacific
Puyallup and Lake Tapps
The White River Amphitheater and
The Muckleshooting Gallery

No place to go
To be or not
To call?

Call Kent?
Leave it, heel
Kang Lee, his man?
Glen Dale, his boy?
Barbee Mill, Bonney Lake?
Renton, that Renton?

--Cumberland
--Captain, it’s Kent . . . he’s
--Sumner?
--Missing.  It’s been--
--He’s a big boy
--Yes, yes, yes
  Just a big boy nothing but a
  Big bad boy--oh
--K, O.K.
  We’ll check it out

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11

Kent Auburn came to
Wherever he was
It was wet
Too far and
Far too wet
To swim in
A field
And stream
Magazine
Ravine

Yet up a bluff
Somewhere
River it was
Or came to
Be here now
To coin a koan
Doodle dandy

Like a patriot act
By the karaoke
Off-key stones
He sang to
Come to
Stay awake
Over the roar
Of the dark
Of the light
Headlights

Kent Auburn, nobody’s roadkill
Slaughter was for Indians

He rolled away
And waited for
The car
To come
To go