Different Slants

Seeing the World from a New Angle

Home, Home Again from Far, Far Away

Filed under: Uncategorized — Bob at 9:21 am on Sunday, November 20, 2022

by Robert M. Katzman © November 4, 2022

Tiny Spiders created a

Cobweb Interstate

In my closed-up office

Missed Autumn and the magic

The explosion of hues

Color gone now

A million leaves all curled up

Cracked, brown and dead


I hear English spoken

Spoken everywhere

My French was like

Drops of rain in a desert

One for them/one for me

English is so like a waterfall

My tired mind

Splashing in all the syllables

I can understand everything



I can make left turns

I can make right turns

I love the stoplights

Damn the Turning Circles!

Damn the Turning Circles!!

Going round & ‘round & round

Tiny European cars

Spinning past me like

Irritating metallic insects


But the bread

Oh, the bread

Crusty, solid, fragrant and more

We have so much to learn

About how to bake bread

Ours a step above dry cardboard

In fact, food is the thing

Food is the religion of Europe

Here we eat to live

There, they live to eat


Here, the dollars stack neatly

Like uniform Greenbacks

There, each denomination gets

Smaller and smaller and smaller

Paper transformed into coins

Damn numbers too small

For old eyes to see

But at least over there

No more pennies


So many bookstores

Every little hamlet has a bookstore

Filled to overflowing with books

On tables, chairs and the floor

New books and crowds buying them

Old bookstores

The musty smell of Centuries

Pulpy paper and solid binding

Books intended to last


Except when another

European country

Insanity erupting

Like a volcano

Burned them

Burned thousands

I think the best of Europe

Depends on when in Time

And who a person is


In busy speeding Paris

Every kind of beautiful women

None of them born in France

Tunisia to Morocco

Portugal to Senegal

Bretagne to Japan

China, Thailand, Korea

Hajibs everywhere

Dark eyes avoiding mine


Markets sprout up from nothing

Like mushrooms after

A heavy Spring rain

Fresh everything

Cheeses, pork, hams

Chicken roasting on spits

Every kind of bread

Poppy seed to Baguettes

A dozen silk scarves fluttering

Fragrant leather purses

Earrings, necklaces, anklets

Sparking in hot sunlight


A thousand people

Laughing, happy



Then, poof!

All gone

Like none of the wagons

Were ever there at all



But my bed is so like an old friend

I know where everything is

The shower is always hot

There is always toilet paper

I know where all the

Knives and forks are

A small castle maybe

But at least, it’s my castle


My old car has been

Awaiting me

A faithful steed

Ok, a rusting nag

But it has a wonderful

Automatic Transmission


And room for more than

One adult person


Very slowly, here

Electric replacing gas

There, virtually not one

American car

Everything seemingly electric

And their tiny little cars

Are so adorable

Like charms on a bracelet


My small town has my friends

I know all the streets

Where the potholes are

I know all the stores

I know my favorite cafes

Where the coffee is good

Where I can just be


I know my Barber

My Doctor

My Lawyer

My Mechanic

My Post Office

And the nice people

 Working there

And who smile at me

When they see me

I am known here


I can plug

Any damn thing

Into any damn socket

A miracle!

Traveling to alien places

Is where a person

Constantly adapts

Home is

Never having to adapt


My old rituals

Can resume again

As real to me as

Invisible children


Awaiting my return

I am home


“To all, home or not, especially our military, Happy Thanksgiving! Love, Bob”



Publishing News!

(Currently seeking representation as a speaker/poet for hire)

Bob Katzman’s two new true Chicago books are now for sale, from him!
Vol. One: A Savage Heart and Vol. Two: Fighting Words

Gritty, violent, friendship, classic American entrepreneurship love, death, heartbreak and the real dirt about surviving in a completely corrupt major city under the Chicago Machine. More history and about one man’s life than a person may imagine.

Please visit my new website: http://www.dontgoquietlypress.com
If a person doesn’t want to use PayPaI, I also have a PO Box & I ship anywhere in America.

Send me a money order with your return and contact info.
I will get your books to you within ten days.
Here’s complete information on how to buy my books:

Vol 1: A Savage Heart and Vol. 2: Fighting Words
My books weigh almost 2 pounds each, with about 525 pages each and there are a total together of 79 stories and story/poems.

Robert M. Katzman
Don’t Go Quietly Press
PO Box 44287
Racine, Wis. 53404-9998 (262)752-3333, 8AM–7PM

Books cost $29.95 each, plus shipping

For: (1) $3.95; (2) $5.95; (3) $7.95; (4) $8.95 (5) $9.95;(6) $10.95

(7) $11.95; (8) $12.95; (9) $13.95 (10) $15.95 (15) $19.95

I am also for hire if anyone wants me to read my work and answer questions in the Chicago/Milwaukee area. Schools can call me for quantity discounts for 30 or more books. Also: businesses, bookstores, private organizations or churches and so on.

My two latest books are available in the Racine Wis Public Library. Both books are labeled: 921 KAT. ROB on their spines, in autobiography Dept.

Signed Books are also for sale at:

Studio Moonfall Bookstore, 5031 7th St. Kenosha, Wis, email: hello@studiomoonfall


Comment by Brad Dechter

November 20, 2022 @ 11:10 am

It is a shame a Rambler was an American Motors Car. It was fitting as you rambled and toggled between past and current, Europe and Wisconsin. I like comparisons and I like travels so your thoughts were interesting to me- as usual.
My only question is why this was a poem versus an essay. It started more as a poem but midway sort of converted to me. I am not being critical, but you want the truth as I see it- right? BTW- my wife walked in just now and told me I am horrible at p[oems and should not be critiquing anyone. (OUCH!)

Comment by Beth Walsh

November 20, 2022 @ 2:41 pm

Once again, Bob. You have made me smile. It’s enough. For today, I drank in my own fall mix of bright sunshine falling on the last of a colorful leaf bounty. Joy in simple meals with a new friend. Walking a leaf scattered street through a crowded farmers market. My town. Familiar with something new to notice in every downtown shop. Home.


Comment by Jim Payne

November 20, 2022 @ 3:14 pm

What a vivid picture to say there’s no place like home.

Comment by kumari de silva

November 20, 2022 @ 3:39 pm

To everyone happy thanksgiving/friendsgiving! Thank Mr. Katz for another wonderful piece ??

Comment by bernard white

November 23, 2022 @ 6:38 am

exquisite. you are marvelous. your writing, a balm in gilead. a balm in Paris. a balm in Racine….
thank you for your witness to this miracle short surprising life. your words comfort like Home.

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