The Black Snake With Gold Bones

NOVEMBER GEESE
—David Humphreys, Stockton

About three weeks ago you heard them
for the first time calling in the clouds

above you and then again ever since
occasionally in different places like the

front door this morning in the dark as
you reached down for the fog-wrapped

newspaper. A few days ago it was in the rain,
lovely sound cutting time’s fabric with the saw

teeth of seamstress scissors, cutting like a
memory of hip-waders in muddy rice fields

setting decoys before dawn in the smell of
Pop’s pipe tobacco. The sound of geese is

like loons haunting the Maine woods hung
like a portrait above the living room piano.

________________________

Thanks, David! You may have noticed that Medusa posts a lot of David Humphrey's poems; this is partly because he sends a lot to us! Remember: Medusa may be a cranky harridan in some regards, but she is remarkably cheerful about posting NorCal poets' work! Send some to kathykieth@hotmail.com NOW.

Here's a dandy one from Michelle Kunert, another Snake-pal:

DOLLAR TREE TROUBLES
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento

I took a holiday job at Dollar Tree
and they've been out of helium
I have to let customers who want mylar balloons
(which really just add to the national garbage heap
and get eaten as jellyfish by sea creatures everywhere)
a lot more is sold here than cheap hot air
but often they look like they just don't care
they don't want to party with, or send instead with flowers
perhaps a plastic light-up disco dinosaur
or glow-in-the-dark plastic jewelry, or a toy car
or just a bunch of colored gift wrap paper
And certainly DVD's of Flash Gordon, Ozzie and Harriet, Bonanza
Surely these T.V. shows warm the heart far more
than something that could deflate or pop tomorrow
Dollar Tree also has candles for prayers
especially to Our Lady of Guadalupe and Saint Jude
While I am a Protestant
Maybe I'll kneel and put together my hands
to these saints enshrined in aisle two
the helium shipment comes from Texas on angels' wings
and also that nobody cooks in the aluminum pans

_______________________

A busy day and night!

•••Sat., 11/18, 7-9 PM: Underground Poetry Series features Crawdad Nelson, Brett Freeman, Laura Cook, and Juanita "Yoke Breaker" Mason, plus open mic. $3. Underground Books, 2814 35th St. (at Broadway), Sac.

•••Saturday, 11/18, 8 PM: FRANK ANDRICK IS A NAME-DROPPING WHORE (A BENEFIT): An evening of provocative and scandalous work at HQ, 25th & R Sts., Sac. to help poet frank andrick cover his medical costs. Featuring frank andrick, Gene Bloom, Josh Fernandez, Bill Gainer, James Lee Jobe, Rachel Leibrock, Ann Menebroker, Geoffrey Neill, Barbara Noble, Bill Pieper, Rachel Savage, Teryl & Eric (and many last- minute surprises). Also: an audio-visual overlay by J. Greenberg. This event is sponsored by Poets & Writers with a grant they've received through the James Irvine Foundation.

•••Also Saturday, 4 PM: The Central California Art Association and the Mistlin Art Gallery announces a poetry reading that will feature Lisa Verigin at the gallery, 1015 J St/, downtown Modesto. Lisa ia a Central Valley native who migrated to Georgia State University for her MFA, the University of Nebraska for her PhD, then back to Modesto, where she currently lives. Her poetry has appeared in a wide variety of literary journals, including Quarterly West, Bloom, Solo, Court Green, The Worcester Review, The American Literary Review and Poet Lore, to name a few. A former editorial assistant for Prairie Schooner, Verigin is author of the chapbook, Two-Reel Comedy. There will be an open mic following her reading to celebrate the second issue of the local poetry journal hardpan, in which she is one of the 25 contributors. Free.

•••Also Saturday, 1-3 PM, Shonda René hosts a poetry workshop at Acacia Cafe, corner of Acacia St. and Yosemite Ave. in Stockton. Be sure to read T. S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" for the discussion: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T.S._Elliot#The_Love_Song_of_J._Alfred_Prufrock

_______________________

NIGHT FEEDING
—Muriel Rukeyser

Deeper than sleep but not so deep as death
I lay there sleeping and my magic head
remembered and forgot. On first cry I
remembered and forgot and did believe.
I knew love and I knew evil:
woke to the burning song and the tree burning blind,
despair of our days had the calm milk-giver who
knows sleep, knows growth, the sex of fire and grass,
and the black snake with gold bones.

Black sleeps, gold burns; on second cry I woke
fully and gave to feed and fed on feeding.
Gold seed, green pain, my wizards in the earth
walked through the house, black in the morning dark.
Shadows grew in my veins, my bright belief,
my head of dreams deeper than night and sleep.
Voices of all black animals crying to drink,
cries of all birth arise, simple as we,
found in the leaves, in clouds and dark, in dream,
deep as this hour, ready again to sleep.

_______________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, 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.)