All That Nightly Grunting & Rustling

CLATTER OF RINGS
—Rhony Bhopla, Sacramento

Sounds do clutter
but when they clatter
it’s like the slither of smallness
that seeps on buttered bubbled hum.

I so want to wear the slickest red
smooth lipstick, the finest pearl
rounds, that will only do justice
to the tightest spit of gold.

It is me lady-like, who wants
the spear long heels to strut in,
that will click with my remark
which will sound my in.

And it’s that clatter of rings,
the soothment they bring,
a finery, ladies, that
oh, cannot be resisted.

_____________________

Thanks, Rhony! Yesterday’s William Carlos Williams poem hit a nerve with Taylor Graham, whose beloved dirt road is currently being paved against her wishes. Here is her elegy:


OUR ROAD
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

After all the years we’ve lived here
on a one-lane track of dirt scraped down,
and gravel scattered by five
households’ tires, today our road

is paved. A truck spreads hot-mix asphalt,
and a roller presses it in place.
They’ve brought bitumen up
from underground to black-ribbon

a road that used to beckon with cutbanks
grooved by deer hooves, and a gully
rabbit-run through berry brambles purple-
sweet in August. How many times

I’d turn aside, forget my hurry,
and explore the dusty fringes. But now,
no potholes, no washboard rumble.
We’ll travel faster, straight ahead.

On either side the oaks are drifting
October leaves. What do roots make
of man’s geology, that lays down
a new era on our road?

_________________________

Thanks, TG!

Today is Sacramento Poetry Day, and there are plenty of events to help you celebrate it this week [see Monday's post, “Hold Onto Your Wigs”]. Medusa will be gone, though, until November 1—sneaking off to the sea again—and while I’m gone, please get your poems together for the next Snake—deadline November 15. When I get back on the first, I’ll send out the November Snakebytes, which will tell you all about Allegra Jostad Silberstein’s upcoming reading/book release (In the Folds) at The Book Collector on November 9, at which time we shall also release the latest Snakelets, as well as Claudia Trnka’s littlesnake broadside.

November 1 is the deadline for Vyper, the journal for young people 13-19 years of age. Send 3-5 poems with name, address, e-mail and age on every page to 4708 Tree Shadow Place, Fair Oaks, 95628.

And of course October 31 is Halloween. I shall leave you with some Sacramento Poetry Day Halloween poems from a true Sacramento girl (born here, raised here, lived here 50 of my 60 years):


GHOSTS AND CHILDREN
—Kathy Kieth, Fair Oaks

own Halloween, sandwiched as they are
between the quick and the dead. Not quite
jelled, they flap like see-through bats between
Here and There, like holograms in some
elsewhere-kind of theme park, where they roller-
coaster/bumper car/ferris wheel all day, slipping

back and forth through reality cracks to bring us
bits of news and fresh pieces of other-worldly
pie. Just the other day, I caught one hanging
in my closet; but when I got out the broom, she
flipped back into her bed, pretending again to be
a mere child. . .

We earthenware adults had better stand aside,
especially on All Hallows’ Eve, or these spritely
creatures will bump right through us. . .

___________________________

GHOSTS DON’T EXIST
—Kathy Kieth, Fair Oaks

even though there is a big one living
under the bed: sleeping all day

down there between the dust motes
and the candywrappers: flipping

the corners of his quilt out
of boredom in late afternoon: lurking

just beyond the brave beam
of his flashlight. . . Of course ghosts

don't exist: it says so in musty
library books: in the tall legs

of grown-ups: in windy sunshine
and kids that tease: in the bland drone

of the TV flickering blue in the next
room after he goes to bed. . . Of course

ghosts don't exist: all that nightly
grunting and rustling is just

wind from the open window: thump
of his heart keeping time in

the dark: ragged edge of a dream
he can't ever quite shake free. . .

(appeared in Mobius, May, 2003)

______________________________

—Medusa (see you November 1!)

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)