A poem written by Parker

When I left the Peninsula

When I left the peninsula

the fish were coming back

and ruminations of prosperity

were making every soup taste more like soup

neighbors grunted,

“Who would leave now?”

I said, “me” to myself

Now, I look at yonder young light

with some natural ambitions

a disheveled pencil,

a tune

For the first time in my life, I’m looking for a dog

he’d be a great friend now