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Bixby
by Stephen Edington
Introduction: In the late summer of 1960 Jack Kerouac, with the twin demons of fame and alcoholism beginning to overtake him, spent some time at a cabin owned by Lawrence Ferlinghetti in Bixby Canyon at California’s Big Sur. The purpose of the trip was for Kerouac to get a personal retreat and dry out a bit. The readers of his novel, Big Sur know that that’s not exactly how it turned out. This poem is about my visit to Bixby Canyon in January of 2007 with Kerouac on my mind:
I do it the easy way
And drive down the road
In broad daylight.
No groping through midnight darkness
With brakeman’s lantern and back-pack.
Unlike Jack
I have no key to the gate
So jump the fence
A trespasser.
Most houses and cabins empty
Awaiting their summer renters
On this January day.
Two locals ignore me
As I pass Lawrence’s cabin.
Tire-track road
Becomes a path in the woods
After the last house.
Feeling safer
Not trespassing anymore
Just me
And the trees
And the creek
Who don’t care that I’m here
Cross and re-cross the creek
On little foot-bridges
Green canyon walls high on either side now
Son of a bitch
The rusted out car’s still there
Half way up the canyon wall
Just before the bridge
Under the bridge
Huge…overwhelming
Majestic and strangely eerie
Can’t name it
But get a whiff
Of what scared Jack.
Path ends at the beach
The creek cuts through the sand to the ocean
A huge rock juts out of the sand
Right where the waves break
Ledges in the rock
Maybe one of them Jack’s seat
For writing his Sea poem
Shoes and socks off
Trousers rolled up
Not that cold for a California January
Wade the creek
Mount the rock
Sit
Breathe in
Breathe out
Listen
Listen for the
Cherson! Cherson!
Just like Jack heard it
Try to strike up a conversation:
Goddamn Jack
How could you lose it in a place like this?
Yeah, spooky bridge alright
An’ ghosts up there by the rusted car
But what was it?
More beauty here
Than you could take
At that point in your life?
Is that why your ride out here
Really was
On your last train to the coast?
You came here to cleanse your soul
And all you saw were demons
In the water and woods and sand
And they chased you
Right past your beloved Buddha
Clear back to the cross you first saw in Lowell.
OK, I’ll get off this rock
And leave you alone
Since that’s all you ever wanted
Of anyone
Anyway
Take care, Jack
God Bless.