Year of the Dog (& Po-Events 1/30-2/5)

Black dog must investigate every grated sewer opening.
He stiffens, 10 feet ahead, slows and tiptoes,
head lowered to the edge, looks cautiously between the iron bars,
and listens to the echoes of his own breathing drip
underground for miles...

Those are the opening lines from Black Dog, Rattlechap #16, by James DenBoer— a most fitting way to kick off the Year of the Dog. I was born in the Year of the Dog (1946), and will turn 60 in the Year of the Dog—which seemed highly auspicious until I realized that everybody turns 60 in the year of the animal sign under which they were born. (You do the math; it has to do with 12's).

So we're celebrating our canine cohorts with poetry about dogs today, and with a wee freebie: send Medusa a poem of your own this week—about dogs or new beginnings or whatever the hell tweaks your pen—and I'll send you a rattlechap, either Black Dog, or Jeanine Stevens' new The Keeping Room, or any Rattlechap you don't already have (let me know). Your poem has to get to me by FRIDAY, though, so email is probably best: kathykieth@hotmail.com.

Well, butter my ass and call me Biscuit! Co-inky-dinks abound: this Wednesday (2/1) is the reading/release of Clan-of-the-Dog-One-Dog-Press-Man James Lee Jobe's new rattlechap, What God Said When She Finally Answered Me. JLJ is a 'way-fun reader and raconteur who will appear at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. at 7:30 this Weds. Be there. Oh—and a read-around will follow; bring a poem of your own to read, or somebody else's. (And while you're waiting, click on the link to the right of this column to check in on JLJ's dandy blog.)

Other events this week:

•••Tonight (Mon., 1/30), the Sacramento Poetry Center presents Laurie Duesing and Michael Spurgeon, hosted by Bob Stanley. 7:30 pm, HQ (25th & R Sts., Sac.). Free; open mic to follow. Info: 916-451-5569.

•••Weds. (2/1) the library staff will present a free short-story and poetry-writing workshop at the Arcade Learning Library, 2443 Marconi Av., Sac., 6:00-7:30 pm. Info: 916-264-2920. And Josh McKinney announces the following: Sacramento State University (Creative Writing) in conjunction with the Visiting Scholars Program presents "The Nymph Stick Insect: Science, Faith, and Poetry", a presentation and reading by Forrest Gander on Wednesday (2/1),7-8 p.m., Amador Hall 150, CSUS Campus. Free/open to the public.

•••Thurs., (2/1) Saul Williams presents "The Dead Emcee Scrolls", a free spoken-word program at CSUS's University Union Ballroom, 6000 J St., Sac., 7:30 pm. Info: 916-278-6997. Poetry Unplugged is also that night at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac. Free (one-drink minimum), 8 pm. Info: 916-441-3931.

•••On Friday (2/3), The Other Voice presents Mehdi Moghaddam for an evening of music, dance and poetry inspired by the Persian poet, Rumi. They meet at 7:30 in the library of the Unitarian Church at 27074 Patwin Road, Davis, CA.

•••This Sunday (2/5) at 6 pm, experience the interplay of voice with voice, voice with music as Susan Hennies and Joe Finkleman present Two-Voice Poetry with Music, with Francesca Reitano on flute (and we hope a percussionist as well). Location: Room 11 at the Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento, 2425 Sierra Blvd., 2 blocks north of Fair Oaks Blvd, between Howe and Fulton Avenues.


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THE OLD DOG IN THE RUINS OF
THE GRAVES AT ARLES
—James Wright

I have heard tell somewhere,
Or read, I forget which,
That animals tumble along in a forever,
A little dream, a quick longing
For every fine haunch that passes,
As the young bitches glitter in their own light.

I find their freedom from lonely wisdoom
Hard to believe.
No matter the brief skull fails to contain,
The old bones know something.

Almost indistinguishable from the dust,
They seek shadow, they limp among the tombs.
One stray mutt, long since out of patience,
Rises up, as the sunlight happens to strike,
And snaps at his right foreleg.

When the hurrying shadow returns
He lies down in peace again,
Between the still perfectly formed sarcophagi
That have been empty of Romans or anybody
Longer than anybody remembers.
Graves last longer than men. Nobody can tell me
The old dogs don't know.

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CIRCLING OF THE PACK
—Hatch Graham, Somerset

Around the kitchen the pack has all gathered.
Mama sets breakfast down on the floor.
Cody and Piper, and Cowboy all circle –
Who has the best, what is the score?

Breakfast is set down on the floor.
Cowboy’s is special, so he doesn’t like it.
Who has the best, what is the score?
Cody says Cowboy’s is good, so she’ll take it.

Cowboy’s is special, so he doesn’t like it.
Piper tries Cody’s because it’s not hers.
Cody says Cowboy’s is good, so she’ll take it.
But Piper’s got hers, and she’s hoping for more.

Piper tries Cody’s because it’s not hers.
Cowboy thinks Piper’s is actually best.
But Piper’s in his, and he’s hoping for more.
Mama says Cowboy’s is special for puppies.

Cowboy thinks Piper’s is actually best.
Mama says Cowboy’s is special for puppies.
Around the kitchen the pack has all gathered.
Cody and Piper and Cowboy still circle....

(previously published in Rattlesnake Review)

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Thanks, Hatch!—What a magnificent use of the pantoum form. Don't forget that Cody, Piper and Cowboy are search-and-rescue dogs that regularly hunt out the lost. Last Friday I had the honor of hanging out with Hatch and Judy Graham's friend, Song Kowbell, to work on Song's upcoming Rattlechap. The day was shared with her search-and-rescue dogs, Oberon and Zippy, who are also magnificent animals. Song reminds me that Hatch was in on the ground floor of figuring out how to teach dogs to search for lost humans, and that for human handlers to be trained by Hatch Graham "looks great on their resume". Kudos to Hatch and Judy and Song and their beautiful dogs for dragging themselves out of bed on cold, cold nights to go look for those of us who have wandered. ("Whenever we go down the wrong path, we'll always end up at the wrong end." —Assemblyman Dennis Mountjoy, Morovia, quoted today in The Sacramento Bee.)

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STUPID LITTLE DOGS

get mixed up in my legs as I walk
to the mailbox, get wound up in

retractible leashes and pyracantha
and their own enthusiasms: get

tangled up in all the juicy smells
of the day: ears flopping, tongues

flapping, nosey wet noses poking
into everyone else's business—total

disregard of permission . . . These
stupid little dogs don't get it: how life

is just one long retractible leash, one
thorny pyracantha . . .

—Kathy Kieth, Fair Oaks (previously published in Plainsongs, Spring 2004)

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—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.)