Matthew Caretti
A Tundra of the Mind
I remember imagining a truth that never happened. Him sitting in an aging but well-kept Daimler bus. Moving between Helsinki and Oulu. Or more likely plying the route from Köngäs to Utsjoki. A small Moleskine notebook on his lap. A fountain pen in hand.
in image and likeness inventing a new god
Stashed inside his daypack a worn and dog-eared copy of Salinger’s Nine Stories. Under it The Dharma Bums. In his mind their travels mingle with his own. Coalesce into visions of mountain ambles and seaside swims. Contrast with the scenes passing him by.
lost in it the gentle hum of the journey
A snapshot of Hokusai’s “Great Wave” hung on the wall of his flat is tucked into Kerouac. Perhaps bookmarking the lesson from Japhy about Shiki’s rain-soaked sparrow on the porch. A sudden freezing drizzle now veins old windows.
onto a blank canvas the thrust of being
The bus rushes on toward the northern frontiers of Finland. Of the planet itself. Intermittent taiga within this Lappish wasteland of marshy plains. He ponders all this before an afternoon matinee of Nordic Noir at the village cinema.
white of the screen a tear in space-time
Back at his New York writing desk he searches out from his notes, as Pound had it, the best words in the best order. Works and revises a naming of what he’d observed. Reducing and stripping away until he’s left with a single word.
tundra the empty glare of a desk lamp
Note: Some biographical details have been gleaned from the interview in Juxta 2.1, in which Jim Kacian interviewed Cor van den Huevel. It can be found here.
About the Author
Matthew Caretti began publishing his poems in 2009. He has published two books of haibun, Harvesting Stones (2017, winner of the Snapshot Press eChapbook Award) and Africa, Buddha (2022, Red Moon Press), and a book of haiku, Ukulele Drift (2023, Red Moon Press). He lives and teaches high school English in Pago Pago, American Samoa.