Quinton and Nancy Duval
DOGWOOD
—Quinton Duval
How can you stay so beautiful?
At once so pale and broken
into blossoming scraps, then
the dark, smooth branches,
I mean black, that give up
an odd petal to the spring wind.
How do you seem to know
where to set yourself down?
You have all kinds of wild ideas.
I know redbud sees your play
of dark and light, and starts,
brushy, stubborn, with impossible seed.
All the right and fine things
derive from you, or something like you.
All the veined white blossoms
hold against the black branch, the alarm,
the thug of winter light, the whip
that arrives with such beauty.
_________________
Thanks, Quinton! Quinton Duval has published three books of poems: Guerrilla Letters (1976), Dinner Music (1984), and Joe’s Rain (2005). He is the editor and publisher of Red Wing Press and teaches English and Creative Writing at Solano Community College in Fairfield, California. He lives in West Sacramento with his wife, Nancy.
This coming Wednesday, May 14, Quinton will be reading at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, at 7:30 PM, when Rattlesnake Press will be releasing Quinton's new chapbook, Among Summer Pines.
LONELY VISTAS
—Quinton Duval
Sometimes the longing begins early,
mornings steering the tractor through
uniform lines of grapes. The mist
settles between the rows, down where
the sulphur grabs hold of the leaves
and workers get that little cough
and surprising yellow in the kerchief.
But you are riding higher, inside the cab
no outer noise can seep into.
Bored, you decide the noise of the motor
is the noise it takes to make the whole
dark engine run, what it costs to play.
And all you see are unchanging rows,
occasional returns, like a ship
on a stage, afloat by simple optical
illusion. What others would see
as lucky, you write off as lonely
vistas, the same old same old thing.
Today you had bologna in your sandwsich.
Today is Thursday. You can't remember
if that's what Thursdays always bring.
You long for a highway, a free-for-all
white line of constant change. The hands
that fold the lunch meat, lubricate the bread,
are hands you have watched for years.
Are they yours or hers? Does she wonder
where those lonely vistas will lead you?
Does she know how separate we are?
___________________
DOGWOOD
—Quinton Duval
How can you stay so beautiful?
At once so pale and broken
into blossoming scraps, then
the dark, smooth branches,
I mean black, that give up
an odd petal to the spring wind.
How do you seem to know
where to set yourself down?
You have all kinds of wild ideas.
I know redbud sees your play
of dark and light, and starts,
brushy, stubborn, with impossible seed.
All the right and fine things
derive from you, or something like you.
All the veined white blossoms
hold against the black branch, the alarm,
the thug of winter light, the whip
that arrives with such beauty.
_________________
Thanks, Quinton! Quinton Duval has published three books of poems: Guerrilla Letters (1976), Dinner Music (1984), and Joe’s Rain (2005). He is the editor and publisher of Red Wing Press and teaches English and Creative Writing at Solano Community College in Fairfield, California. He lives in West Sacramento with his wife, Nancy.
This coming Wednesday, May 14, Quinton will be reading at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, at 7:30 PM, when Rattlesnake Press will be releasing Quinton's new chapbook, Among Summer Pines.
LONELY VISTAS
—Quinton Duval
Sometimes the longing begins early,
mornings steering the tractor through
uniform lines of grapes. The mist
settles between the rows, down where
the sulphur grabs hold of the leaves
and workers get that little cough
and surprising yellow in the kerchief.
But you are riding higher, inside the cab
no outer noise can seep into.
Bored, you decide the noise of the motor
is the noise it takes to make the whole
dark engine run, what it costs to play.
And all you see are unchanging rows,
occasional returns, like a ship
on a stage, afloat by simple optical
illusion. What others would see
as lucky, you write off as lonely
vistas, the same old same old thing.
Today you had bologna in your sandwsich.
Today is Thursday. You can't remember
if that's what Thursdays always bring.
You long for a highway, a free-for-all
white line of constant change. The hands
that fold the lunch meat, lubricate the bread,
are hands you have watched for years.
Are they yours or hers? Does she wonder
where those lonely vistas will lead you?
Does she know how separate we are?
___________________
Today's LittleNip:
Why others write I do not know. As well ask why a hen lays an egg or a cow stands patiently while a farmer burglarizes her.
—H.L. Mencken
___________________
Medusa
MEDUSA'S WEEKLY MENU:
(Contributors are welcome to cook something up for any and all of these!)
Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar
Tuesday: Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.
Wednesday: HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing. Favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.
Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy. Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.
Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar
Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ever-hungry poetic souls.
And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!
_________________
SNAKEWATCH: NEWS FROM RATTLESNAKE PRESS
Coming May 14: Join us on Wednesday, May 14 for the release of Among Summer Pines by Quinton Duval; a littlesnake broadside, Before Naming, by Stephani Schaefer; and Volume Three of Conversations, our third book of interviews by B.L. Kennedy, featuring Art Beck, Olivia Costellano, Quinton Duval, William S. Gainer, Mario Ellis Hill, Kathryn Hohlwein, James Jee Jobe, Andy Jones, Rebecca Morrison and Phillip T. Nails. That's at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM.
Also in May: Deadline for Issue #18 of Rattlesnake Review is May 15. Free copies of Issue #17 are available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I'll mail you one.
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events, to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.
