Monday, April 16, 2012

Feathers, Tips of Dreams

Pt. Arena Building
—Photo by Cynthia Linville, Sacramento

—Caschwa, Sacramento

Dateline: San Francisco,
A driver speeding in his Odd SE
Nearly hit a bi-stander

The tennis sea wall tsar
Poked fun with ken
And barb wire

Lumpy potatoes?
Just take them to
The re-pare shop

The farmer says he
Grows bellows:
It’s a kind of pump kin



In nature, humble acorns will
Mature into a giant oak trees

This is normal, predictable,
And usually unstoppable.

And yes, there are some people like that,
Whom we honor with respect, money, and title.

But when we set the same expectations for their offspring
And shield them from the very dirt they need to take root,

We get saplings with a false sense of maturity
Whom we still honor with respect, money, and title.


—Taylor Graham, Placerville

Not dark—uncertain storm-gray obscuring
a dusk of foliage—pyracantha
weighed down by winter berries unharvested—
great bunches of firethorn orange-
red berries, garlands of fruit, a beautiful flame.

And in that haven, a hundred birds feasting—
cedar waxwings hidden in hollows
of shadow, hectic fidgeting of wings and beaks
in branches. Dim gray birds concealing
their crests, gilded tips of tail-feathers.

If I opened the glass I might hear their song.
If I opened the glass, they'd disappear.
Feathers, tips of dreams.
The pyracantha offered its crimson
to the birds. Take, eat.

In half-light, firethorn flicked its unpicked
flames of berries; wishing its fruit to be
transported in bird-frenzy, its seed to take wing
as in wave after wave the waxwings
disappeared into gloaming.

 Cedar Waxwing

—Michael Cluff, Corona, CA

The hoopla
carried guests
into the field of fresh crabgrass
emptying out upon the gross plain
where answers
were waiting
well buried


Blistered Friday
endured impatience
blooming from noon to nearly five
the heat of anticipation and escape
added sinew
to September
and autumn


Tyler Malone
wore bowties
to the office on uncasual Wednesday
caught the fancy of Nancy Adair
one Thursday
they arrived
soundly together


Thanks to today's contributors. We have a new photo album on our Facebook page: Trip to the Sea by Cynthia Linville. Thanks, Cynthia—we could all use a trip to the seaside right now. But if you stay in Sacramento, away from the coast, you'll have plenty of poetry readings to go to! Warm up your scrolling hand and head over to the blue box at the right of this column for an action-packed week of events.

And in between, see if you can pop down to The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac., for a copy of Jeanine Stevens' new book, Sailing on Milkweed. This 92-page, perfect-bound book from Cherry Grove Press is beautiful, and Jeanine is a primo poet. Her book is available at The Book Collector, but also available online at the following sources:

Read more about Jeanine and her book at

Speaking of Richard Hansen, co-owner of TBC, we are distressed to learn that he has been in the hospital this past week for an infection. But he is recovering nicely and hopes to be in the store today. Richard tells me that Ophidian Two, Rattlesnake Press's online publication which has been glitched-up while co-editor Richard deals with other projects in his life, is also coming along well and should hit the airwaves soon.


Today's LittleNip: 

With sixty staring me in the face, I have developed inflammation of the sentence structure and definite hardening of the paragraphs. 

—James Thurber



Evening Rainbow
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento