the clouds on the rainslick
sidewalk moving faster than I
and once in a while a bird beneath
my feet a feeling of speed & light
my heels grow wings I’m dancing on
the sky…
On Saturday, April 20th, the Keep St. Pete Lit organization is sponsoring a benefit for their Children’s Literary Programs that foster self-esteem, literacy, and creativity in local children. A local artist, Chad Mize — famous for his murals brightening our town and his “World Tour: Paris-London-Tokyo-St. Pete” shirts — has created art based on today’s poem, and we’re looking forward to seeing it at the event. Jeanne and I like the idea of art/poetry collaborations; we’ve been doing this for decades.
This particular collaboration says a lot about the progress of St. Petersburg. The town we drove into in August 1966, with its green benches full of nodding oldsters would never had attracted today’s high-energy artists like Chad.
When we arrived here with our four children, sweating in an un-air-conditioned VW van, Claude Kirk was about to become governor, not a good sign, though I liked his nickname, Claudius Maximus. Florida’s Poet Laureate was Vivian Laramore Rader who, appointed in 1931, served 44 years until her death in 1975. She was succeeded in 1980 by Ed Skellings, the “Electric Poet,” who lasted for 32 years, dying in 2012. Florida poets had staying power in those days. I’ll finish my 4-year term in June, and already am running out of breath.
I was taking a job at Florida Presbyterian College, and nothing about St. Pete suggested a future arts destination. “Three years to warm up,” we told our worried kids, “then back to civilization!”
Instead, as you know, with fine timing and good leadership, civilization came to St. Petersburg. “Paris-London-Tokyo-St. Pete” would have been satire in 1966. In 2019 it makes us smile: not a bad trip.
First of all, the bright young people came. Florida Presbyterian became a place where independent-minded students chose to enroll, especially when in 1972 it switched to a more appropriate name, Eckerd College. Of course (thinking of shirts) when Jack Eckerd, founder of the pharmacy chain — then running for Governor — was honored on campus, the students marched in with T-shirts proclaiming “ECKERD DRUG COLLEGE: RX FOR YOUR MIND!!!” USF/SP took the downtown space where Florida Presbyterian began, and started its amazing growth into a large and independent-minded university (now in a battle to keep its creative spirit). St. Pete Community College grew to be St. Petersburg College, with a downtown campus near American Stage, the Palladium, and the Sundial movies. The green benches have been replaced by skateboards.
Following the young people, nearby Gulfport, well-known as a relaxed bohemian town where gays and artists could live cheaply, melted into St. Pete. Galleries and restaurants popped up everywhere, from everywhere. The LBGTQ march and party, St, Pete Pride, is now the largest LGBTQ+ celebration in the Southeast (June 21-24 this year). An opportunity to establish the Dali Museum appeared, and the city leaders grabbed it in 1982, building today’s striking museum in 2011. Glass art-maker Dale Chihuly followed, freeFall followed American Stage, writers and artist and actors and musicians are pouring in, or growing up here. A cultural desert has become a garden under the sun. (In 1988, this gritty/funny alt-weekly arrived, and is still going strong, despite a little hiccup about its name — remember the Weekly Planet?)
My poems aren’t as sunny as Chad’s typical artwork but we’re together in our firm belief that St. Pete’s heading in the right direction, and with sense and sensibility (watch those condo$!) will continue to do so for a long time to come. We’ve survived Governor Scott and we’re going to survive President Trump as well. As the Youth on his impossible journey cries in Wordsworth’s famous poem, “Excelsior!”
I feel
free I feel free and now
the butterflies start growing heels
the heels are growing noses/this is growing
complicated that’s how I know it’s
real
—both quotes from “Walking by the Dali Museum” in Lucky Bones by Peter Meinke (U. of Pittsburgh Press, 2014)
This article appears in Apr 18-25, 2019.