Monday, July 09, 2012

Still Going On About Fuchsia

—Photo by Taylor Graham

—Taylor Graham, Placerville

The old knees are crippled—this tree standing
between highway frontage and quik-stop,
leaning against buckled sidewalk, as my puppy
drags me on leash. I'm too old

for this and she's too young, too strong, lunging
for scents against all the rules of heeling.
I trip on concrete, sidewalk whose cracks
break a mother's back. But see how

the heavenly weed sprouts through the cracks,
feather-fans so luxuriant, my puppy plunges
into the midst, oh green pavilion, for its secrets.
And in the higher boughs, garlands

of seed-wings. I could tell her
secrets of scabbed bark scar-healed, going
nowhere by morning commute. I could give her
my knees, cracks opening to wild green shoots.


—Caschwa, Sacramento

Sometimes words alone stop far short
Of conveying the whole truth
To get there we demand to internalize
The experience, to engage all the senses

Bungee jumpers
Lion tamers
Substitute teachers
Mountain climbers
Downhill skiers

Pushing the envelope
Talking back to the judge
Experimental sex
Opening night of a new production
Eating bugs

Slaying the dragon
Finding the chalice
Correcting a perfectionist
Catching that perfect wave
Proposing marriage

Add to these thousands more
teachable moments coded as criminal,
some of it mere comic fiction
posing as the tragic truth

—Photo by Taylor Graham


Under cloudy skies
Developers decided
To install solar panels
On the roof to catch the sun
When it broke out

This is “green”
They applauded themselves
Forgetting entirely about
All those oxygen-producing trees
They had cleared away


—Michael Cluff, Corona

Some say sex
is sublime communication
starching the itch
in the loins
blind instinctual motion
or a release of aggression.

I see it
as a forever pain
in the heart
and briefly
the ass.


Thanks to today's cooks! Carl's LittleNip refers to last week's discussion about the spelling of "fuchsia"; he checked out the origins of the word after sending us a poem in which he spelled it "fuschia". Interesting; don't you think the origins of words are interesting? Anyway, apparently the word can be spelled either way, but I do think Mr. Fuchs deserves his props, so I'm spelling it "fuchsia". 

All of which is relevant to us since Medusa had/has her recent facelift. The FUCHSIA LINKS at the top of the blog used to be on the side; this way I think they are now more accessible for your edification and viewing pleasure. Do browse around up there when you get the chance. Today I call attention to the Publishing link. Not only are there some tips about publishing on that page, but if you scroll down the green bar to the right of this, there are some current submission opportunities, both local and otherwise. Don't be shy about getting your work out there, either in print or in cyberspace. Phillip Larrea, for example, who will be reading at Luna's this Thursday night, sends us a short list of where he has been published lately:

It's great to see other poet's work, of course, and it's also great to get some ideas from such lists about publications you might not already know about: what kind of work they like, submission guidelines, etc. You ARE publication-worthy, yes? Do pursue it!

The same night that Phillip is reading at Luna's, some local members of Amherst Writers and Artists (; formerly Sutterwriters) will be reading at that same event. This is a coincidence, because Lilliana Mendez-Soto, another AWA member, will be offering a workshop using that method beginning on Wednesday. AWA also sponsors 916INK (, an organization that helps youngsters work on their writing and publishing. Again, see the blue b-board at the right of this for all the details, including some other workshops that are happening in our area this week. It's quite a week for workshops around here!


Today's LittleNip:

Now it makes more sense.
I yield to your spell-check
And your reliable intellect
Which I will respect more hence.


[Leonhart Fuchs (the source of the word fuchsia) was big on herbs. See]



 —Portrait of Fuchs by Heinrich Füllmaurer,
Tübingen, 1541.