Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Mac-n-Cheese Day

In the wilderness
You survive
By the skin of your teeth
On the flesh of men
Or you die
And you die

—Photo of Donner Lake and Poem 
by Ronald Edwin Lane, Colfax



MLK
—Charlie Mariano, Sacramento

picked up my granddaughter
yesterday
so we could go to our
secret place

our
not-so-secret place
is Boston Market
and according to her,

“the best mac-n-cheese in the world!”

for now
this place rules

while gobbling that goo,
she says,
“Happy Martin Luther King Day grandpa”

between sticky gulps
i said,
“well thank you, same to you”

she puts down her plastic fork
and looks at me all serious,

“grandpa, i don’t know what we’re supposed to do
this day”

“what did they teach you in school?”
i asked

“my teacher said this is a holiday for people
with dark skin,”

“is that so,” i said, “she said that?”

“no, she called them something else”

“African-American?” i asked

“yeah, that’s it,” she said, “that King guy
was important”

“very important,” i said
“you know, you have dark skin too,”
i told her

“but i’m dark like you, they’re different,”
she added,

“no, not really,” i said, “we’re all the same”

her face got all scrunched up
trying to soak it all in
then she smiled,

“ohhh, so today is for everybody?”

“sort of,” i told her

“Happy Mac-n-Cheese Day grandpa”

_____________________

DRY SPELL
—Taylor Graham, Placerville

Winter-brittle grass
at the edge of dirty pavement.
Every mark on the gauge
reads empty.
No juncos, no robins,
a month since rain.
Soil wrinkles like old skin,
the pasture's waste.
Not a wing
feathers the air.
Sheep move
as if under a spell
under this unbreakable
blue sky.

______________________

WHERE HAVE THE BIRDS GONE?
—Taylor Graham

samisen music sown on rumor—
sewn in reminiscence.
memories revive: a mecca, a caress,
cucurrucucu.

a wren, a crane, a vireo, a swan.

once-aurora, now an eve.
susurrus. musicians score an aria
sonorous as au revoir.
we owe a raven's ransom.

a sorrow soars.

____________________

HE RECITES “TO A SKYLARK”
—Taylor Graham

Utters
mutters
flutters
stutters
They all laugh. He mutters, stutters—words
wing-clipped, till he flutters, utters birds.

____________________

LOOKING FOR THE ROSY FINCH
—Taylor Graham

Grinding
winding
finding
blinding
The trail steep and winding, grinding, long.
Birds against sun blinding, finding song.

____________________

McGEESE
—Caschwa, Sacramento
(Inspired by Michele Kunert’s photo of Canada Geese in McKinley Park—see Medusa's Kitchen post Monday, Jan. 16)


They flocked here from Canada just as others before
had from Ireland, Scotland, and England
Disease would cut short the lives of many,
And some would be shot for sport

They did not migrate here to flee the inadequacies
Of Canadian Universal Health Care in favor of
The allegedly better services offered when big gov
Puts big bills in the collection trays of private enterprise

Each quacky one, as they enjoy the serenity of the park,
Remembers those fateful days when predecessors of
Our “better than them” health care professionals darkly
Feared the side effects of X-rays more than a lodged bullet

Putting poor William on a permanent path to gangrene
By today’s standards, assisting the assassination
Hamstringing first responders with the mandate:
Wait until the FDA finally, officially says it is OK

______________________

OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS #1
—Michael Cluff, Corona, CA

They please me
with their melodies
merry and sweet in natural
trilling without restraint
and bias unless
the call of bees and avians
are involved.

The cage is a killer
even unto the domesticated,
wings were evolved
for a purpose
that contains many acres
of unbounded skies
and clouds.

__________________

OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS #2
—Michael Cluff

MAXIM:

Emus, ostriches and chickens
find
eagles, orioles and canaries
enviable
as well as offensive.

__________________

OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS #3
—Michael Cluff

Deluded and elated
he flew
ever upward
towards freedom
what birds obtain
naturally
without construction.

Dad warned Icarus
that escape
does have its downfalls
if ....

____________________ 

Today's LittleNip: 

I love bamboo how it looks
and because men carve it into flutes

—Ikkyu (trans. from the Japanese by Steven Berg)

____________________

—Medusa


 Canada Goose
—Photo enhancement by D.R. Wagner, Elk Grove