THE PACKAGE
—Marie J. Ross, Stockton
He opened the package tied in ribbon;
ribbon of silk, lacy night frock black
and sensual.
She young and energetic waiting for the
touch, the ribbon of heat around her, the
space walk and sigh for another.
Moon quivered, earth shook; was it a dream,
was it transition from will to won’t?
Room spun: he in ego of youth, feeling his body
thick with muscle, with pride of size and technique.
Was he a gift in gray strands wrapped in out-dated
gift box; in the lovemaking department store of doubt?
He opened the package tied with ribbon; he in tight
black thong, muscle tight and rising, red hot and ready
to light the sexual torch.
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Thank, Marie! Marie J. Ross and the rest of today's poets are responding to the Seed of the Week: SEX! Send me a poem about SEX (kathykieth@hotmail.com, no deadline) and, in a shameless bit of chutzpah, I'll mail you a free copy of Sex—For Animals..., the Rattlesnake Press collection of my poetry and Sam the Snake Man Kieth's art.
SUMMER SOLSTICE
—James Lee Jobe, Davis
All night I held her—close, tight—I ran my palms over her, my fingertips, sometimes my lips.
I cupped the little muscle on the back of her thigh, tasted her skin.
My skin—her skin, one must have stopped where the other started, but I couldn't tell.
I put my face to her breasts, her pubis; she tasted of the Old South, and afterwards I was reluctant to wash, for fear of losing her.
At sunrise she slept, making little sounds that pleased me, the way certain birds please trees.
It was Solstice, and later she blamed the moon, but friend, I know better.
I did not sleep, held the moment, savoring it like a final meal, burned it into my memory, in case God never lets me have this again; you never know which night will be your last.
(previously appeared in Sex In Public, in a slightly different form)
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ARMS AROUND ME YOU
—Tom Goff, Carmichael
I refuse to submit to that long punishing slide
from the high crest strange rages have engraved,
and bitter chiseling winds; am not enslaved
by the inertial pull of the downward glide,
ride into no heart nor teeth of no abyss.
Let me decline those nostrums dark decline,
death knells, tolls to collect, last of his line.
Suppose the sulfuric pool, with mephitic hiss,
requires me down, long, soon. But I can desire
to be desired: a designated few
these days, but what days—arms around me you,
great urgency blending what heats with what protects,
the liquidly rising spine, man-part that erects,
engaging the soft gate, the cosmos, the moist star-fire…
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B.L.'s Drive-By: A Micro-Review by B.L. Kennedy
Slow Fire
by Pamela Alexander
96 pages, trade-paper $16
Ausable Press
1026 Hurricane Road,
Keene, NY 12942
What is there to say or write about Pamela Alexander that has not already been said or written? We can tell you that she is the author of three previous collections of poetry, tell you that she has been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and has been a Yale Younger Poets recipient, and leave it at that because, in my opinion, those are pretty big credentials. This is a hardcore poet whose new collection of poetry, Slow Fire, speaks for itself with linguistic delight, leaving the reader begging for more of what she sells. The poems in Slow Fire are filled with a profound dialogue with the rain, earth and American culture; they command the reader to dig deep inside our own lives to face our gains, losses and fears. Alexander writes with jolted precision of many things and reminds us that we simply cannot live in a community of one. It is for that message alone that this poet is blessed. I can only add three more words… BUY THIS BOOK!
Our Historian-in-Residence, Tom Goff, says:
You might want to let Snake-readers know there's a great link to an interactive William Butler Yeats exhibit, from the National Library of Ireland. Just access the New York Times book review section, which has posted an article on Yeats and the exhibit (and provides details of his life, including his late-in-life love life, which evidently accelerated...).
Thanks, Tom! Tom Goff also sends us an homage to our new U.S. Poet Laureate, Kay Ryan:
BY ITS COVER
—Tom Goff
Hommage á Kay Ryan
Whoever says, Don’t
judge a book by its
cover, doesn’t really
suppose the overhead
buzzer’s misled, taking
the lid of the pot
for the part
with the honey.
If just to entice,
to the hooker,
is a catch by the bait
for the barb,
what of the lazy john
who looks prior
to moving on.
If he sniffs the book’s
pages, riffles, grabs
at page 5, 10, or 15,
he’s already got
an inkling, likes what
it’s trafficking. The judge
who’s a cook might
not buy into
the chef’s book, but
helicopter for savor,
just atop the cover,
might lightly brush,
then buzzard
on by.
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Today's LittleNip:
Sweet to its mate: the porcupine's kisses.
—Stephen Dobyns
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—Medusa
P.S. Be sure to check the "Outward Bound" page of The Sacramento Bee's Metro section today for the winners of the "tri-ku" contest we mentioned last week.
SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press
The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Ten Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...
Medusa's Weekly Menu:
(Contributors are welcome to cook up something 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 (sometimes): 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 future issues of 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 ravenous poetic souls.
And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!
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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.
