Michael Anania

from Stops Along the Western Bank of the Missouri River: of the River Itself

By Michael Anania

This is my advice to foreigners:
call it simply - the river;
never say old muddy
or even Missouri,
and except when it is necessary
ignore the fact that it moves.
It is the river, a singular,
stationary figure of division.
Do not allow the pre-Socratic
to enter your mind except
when thinking of clear water trout
streams in north central Wyoming.
The river is a variety of land,
a kind of dark sea or great bay,'
sea of greater ocean.
At times I find it good discipline
to think of it as a tree
rooted in the delta,
a snake on its topmost western branch.
These hills are not containers;
they give no vantage but that
looking out is an act of transit.
We are not confused,
we do not lose our place.


I was born and raised in San Diego, California. Rivers were dry empty beds of rock and brush in which bridges were placed over them with signs announcing this river or that. There was one I remembered the most in Mission Valley near Old Town. The sign said "San Diego River" and it never, to the best of my knowledge, had water in it.

Not far from San Diego was Los Angeles and they had rivers too except they were paved and had signs too such as the "Los Angeles River". Chaparral was all over the hills and dry creek beds were the norm. Reading about the Missouri River in school as a kid was to learn the history of this country and the river seemed so unreal and so far away.

Then I went to Oregon to visit an aunt who live on the high bank of a river that had water in it. It was the Rogue River and it changed forever what I thought a river was like. It was real and it was so beautiful, full of rapids, fish, and clear sparkling water. The only water I ever saw in San Diego was the water in the bathtub and the sea.

Then I moved to Topeka, Kansas where my first son was born. There was a river Missouri River. It, too, was muddy. It was powerful and brown.

I used to take my children down to the Ozarks and to Arkansas so they could swim in clear water. Even the lakes in Kansas were brown so that if you didn't paint your toe nails with clear polish your nails would turn brown. I even followed the Missouri River once to see the kind of people who lived along its banks and took pictures. I was surprised at the variety of animal life and people. The poet is right. Everyone just called the river just The River.

The poet was born and raised in Nebraska and now lives and teaches in Chicago. I found a lot to explore in the Midwest but I never felt at home there. The lakes and streams are pretty much like Korean lakes and streams, muddy. Some people get frustrated in not being able see through the center of it and it was muddy. I did not like it. I wanted a river that looked like the Rogue River. No one swam in it like they did the Rogue River nor do I remember anyone fishing from it. Then we moved to Kansas City and I saw the to swim and enjoy themselves like they do in clear stream and lakes in other countries. They fish here and use nets for they are very serious about the fishing. The sea when I have seen it is muddy too.

I coming back to California next week. The poet said that people are not confused and know their sense of place by The River and that is what I found when I explored its banks so many years ago. It was what I felt when the river seemed so strange to me. Home is the Rogue River with its rainbow trout and salmon. It is the Sacramento River with its full banks of flowing water making its way to the Pacific ocean and trees and rice fields on its banks. Rivers do not confuse us even the dry ones without any water as it did when I was a kid. With rivers, we do not lose our place.