Well, You Didn't Mind Snakeskin...

Yesterday there was an article in The Bee (page A11) about the use of human skin as book covers. Apparently this wasn't all that uncommon in past centuries. The Snake considers this to be justice; after all, people use snakeskin for EVERYthing...

Anyway, Taylor Graham, in her mercy, sends us some dandy snake poems to start the day off right:


WHO’S ON RATTLES?
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

We were marching along
3 miles to roadhead, such
a dry-bone clatter trail,

canteen against
belt-loop and heel
against rock,

we were singing the old songs
to lighten our steps,
syncopated-kicking up

trail-dust, you and I slip-
shodding a harmony,
jazzing it just

to keep ourselves moving
one foot in front of
the other, as if

a song could carry us back
to our car,
when from under a ledge

not 2 inches off the trail,
who cuts in
with the percussion

vibes,
a rattle that just stops
the show?

_____________________

A LITTLE LEEWAY
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

We should allow a little more space
this morning, a gap of sky
between fence and gate, just enough

for an idea to slip through
like a sightseer who lacks the code
to enter. Enough space
for breeze to filter between iron

bars, to dance around rules
like a fool at Mardi Gras;
a few seconds devoted to words

that have nothing to do
with today’s objectives: “purple
oatmeal” or maybe “rapscallion,”

sly as that gopher snake
lying in cool diminishing S-curves
beside the gate;

in-dwellers with their programmed
remotes
won’t see him as they click
their way through.

But I tell you, he’s just playing
dead, he’s playing tongue-harp &
blue-shadow scales

against the rights of passage,
the metallic grid-work of
schedule and rational thought.

_______________________

Thanks, TG!

The release of Jeanine Stevens' rattlechap, The Keeping Room, was auspicious last night—how could it be otherwise, with a fine writer and smooth lady like Jeanine at the helm? Richard and Rachel Hansen have done some early spring housecleaning at The Book Collector, reconfiguring the front small-and-local-press space so it's easier to browse, in addition to providing more space for all things ophidian. Great way to start the new year! Check it out when you pop in to pick up one of Jeanine's new books and a free copy of the brand-new issue of VYPER, the journal of poetry from people 13-19.

While you're there, take a sneak peek at the new Tule Review, which is available there for $5, or you can wait til it comes to you in the mail if you're a member of the Sacramento Poetry Center. Brad Buchanan, Keely Dorran, and Robbie Grossklaus have done a beautiful job on this resurrection, which is now in chapbook format again after the brief switch to newspaper style. Check it out—and start submitting your poems! Info: www.sacramentopoetrycenter.org.

Yesterday, Medusa had the honor of being on Dr. Andy's Poetry and Technology Hour in order to promote Jeanine's reading. Andy Jones does a fine job with this show every Wednesday at 5 pm on KDVS-90.3 FM. Info: www.culturelover.com. Hopefully we will have more about this program and the other poetry offerings on local radio in a future issue of Rattlesnake Review.

Todd Cirillo, who will be releasing a rattlechap this spring, informs me that he and Matt Amott are starting a small press up in Grass Valley. There will be a reading to celebrate the start of their Six Ft. Swells Press with the first chapbook release in their Cheap Shots Poetry Series, Tonight, You're Coming Home With Us. The reading is at 7 pm January 20 at Odyssey Books, 989 Sutton Way, Grass Valley: For info, call 530-477-2856; you can order any Six Ft. Swells release from sixftswells@yahoo.com, beathearts@hotmail.com or call 530-271-0662.

JoAnn Anglin writes: Help the National Steinbeck Center achieve its goal of 10,000 poems. Check out the Web site for the 10,000 Poems Project. http://www.10000poems.com.

________________________

One more from Archie:

WETTER BEATHER
—A.R. Ammons

When a person inquires too much into my
condition, I wonder if he searches for ill

or good: as for my typewriter, it will not do
well in a humidity, it takes on a gummy

lethargy, it refuses its spaces, stalling its
keys which, certainly, just fling themselves

idly against a nonchalance: but let a cool
front through or let a heat wave require the

air conditioner and the keys flick along as easily
as thought: this foreknowledge prevents me

from hastening off, heavy manual machine under
my arm or confined upon my hip by the arm,

hastening off, I say, to the repair shop—
a lucky patience because there no longer are

any shops for this device, and few ribbons
around and sparse typewriter paper: I am in

the midst of a technological redoing which
I will not abide till the radiant screens no

longer flicker: but my talent is so expired
that I need not trouble myself with digital

advances, I merely amuse myself in the comfort
of my own surrounding ignorance, with no

intention of publication and, of course, little
hope that others will press me thru the press.

______________________

—Medusa

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.)