DR. RUTTERBAR 

Several birds on a vine turned sweetness to vinegar spilled an ominous tale of a man from 

 Little Earth 

the bread in his mother’s kitchen given to them from the government    

 not store bought 

his shoes thin leatherette with paper souls 

his school in the darkest part of town 

they called it Little Earth.

Let us peer deeper into this story 

watch the wind toss the past together scenes of hot lips and fouled alleyways  

frustration leaning off the heads working there 

There is one light shining  

the eye of a boy talking in the shadows 

‘one day I will see a different world 

I was not born to remain like this’ 

Dr. Rutterbar

worked while it rained pain  

ate the bread of strangers     

 walked in creepy shoes

what was handed to him 

he handed to his brothers 

but he could not stop the family 

from growing small a brother in jail   

a sister found  on the street playing bit parts                                

his mother’s episodes of loneliness 

eating her whole 

the bones of his father radiated  racially exposed  

Little Earth was a place of groaning  

for the young and the old 

so few escaped so many still call it home    

  Dr. Rutterbar was a pump  

jumping higher and higher  

if he died it would be in the sky  

he wanted to walk new ground 

he created a mirror showing his footsteps 

reaching into the future  

leaving the past behind 

the vine of believing living in his spine 

His ship an ark of one’s and two’s 

out to sea on  a tide of knowledge 

twenty five years of research 

his boat came to rest on a distant shore 

his past became his ancestors 

he stood among the unfamiliar  

outsiders cold shoulders and plainness 

boldness only in finance  

not the smile of stories told on broken steps or backyards 

ragged with running children 

not the dancing of Lokrana or Athilene 

stiffness by design  

wheeled for show 

hardly anything for real 

bread bought in stores   

meals cooked by a hired hand 

Dr. Rutterbar was stuck  on sweet water cornbread 

greens and ginger root 

and  a girl he never forgot 

Sweet Candy who use to dance  the honey drop 

at  the Sundown Saloon 

Birds chirped loudly 

he doesn’t belong     

not one of us 

He’s a man from Little Earth 

send him back home 

Dr. Rutterbar left on the ship that brought him 

 raised a ruckus  finally back home 

Repaired many of the broken 

not just the flesh 

and not just the bones 

gave them the vine of believing 

weaved it into their mind  

a spinning loom through the heart   

into the hands of action 

he taught them new work    

young and the old 

they poured a flood over Little Earth 

put their hopes and dreams in an ark 

 after the water receded  

they built homes out of dreams 

but they didn’t change the laughter or stories  

or stop the dancing at the  

Sundown Saloon