Richard Hansen (left), who is seated behind
Lawrence Dinkins, Jr., Josh Fernandez and his wife, Crystal
at last week's Shine reading
—Photo by Ann Menebroker, Sacramento
VELKOMMEN
—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento
Five Russian men chatter in Russian
at a restaurant table, gingham cloth,
silverware and napkins neatly placed.
At a restaurant table, gingham cloth
aprons of waitresses welcome us
as we sit down to dinner.
Aprons of waitresses say VELKOMMEN
but I hear a French greeting and I smile,
responding with, Muy bien, gracias.
I hear another French greeting and smile.
My husband holds one of my hands, then
suddenly a sugar packet appears.
My husband holds one of my hands, then
suddenly the sugar packet disappears,
reappearing from his left ear.
The sugar packet disappears again,
reappearing from behind his right ear.
I love this place.
I love his way.
Responding with Muy bien, gracias,
we remain seated and finish our dinner,
silverware and napkins neatly replaced.
With sugar suddenly appearing
and reappearing from behind his ears
I love this place, his way with sugar.
______________________
MY DYING PLANTS
—Carol Louise Moon
—Carol Louise Moon
A casual walk today, the end of June;
my backyard and the weather getting hot.
Daisies in my garden fading fast—
Daisies in my garden fading fast—
my precious violets will be wilting soon.
Tiny pansies drooping in their pots;
it’s summer now, I knew they wouldn’t last.
_____________________
THERE IS NO NEED FOR SURPRISE ENDINGS
—Carol Louise Moon
The pie left out will turn to mush.
A clogged toilet will soon start rising.
The unwatched pot will boil over.
The sunset will mellow, the linens will yellow,
the dog-do will need to be flushed.
The end of these things… not so surprising.
You may not find that four-leaf clover.
Copper Eyes
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis
INSIDE THE CAMERA OBSCURA
—Trina Drotar, Sacramento
—Trina Drotar, Sacramento
today at the museum of contemporary art,
the stink of last night’s skunk faded
into a light spectrum on two walls
that vibrated as cars drove south
away from town, and a woman told
how the light is best when the sun
is directly in front of the slitted opening
___________________
WHAT THE MAP REVEALS
—Trina Drotar
—Trina Drotar
hangs a map onto which marks
in shades of pomegranate, blueberry, mango,
and purple grapes had been made.
Thin lines traverse north/south along creeks,
round a stand of oak trees marked
with a yellow push pin and a note
to oil the lawn mower in April.
Thick lines squirrel east/west
resembling a frightening mask once seen on a trip
to a second-hand store where the only item
worth purchasing was an old opalescent sock.
Lines curve where land and water merge,
where a girl in a tight tee-shirt found something
in the sand along a strip of beach she’d visited
only once.
Lines meander and criss and cross
and form angles and geometric shapes that the girl
traces with her right forefinger.
____________________
UNCLE
BILL’S CABIN II
—Patricia Hickerson, Davis
sit
on a dream stump
smoke-off
words pour from the chimney
cloud
my head
haloed
in smoke
words
curl across the earth
here
they come dirt clinging
words
dance, frisk away
like
squirrels at play
brushed
off
cleared
into mouse phrase
wreathed
in rabbit puff
earth
to sky like geese
sky
to earth in vulture swoop
veering,
hunting, hawking, whistling
paradise
cabin under paradise smoke
deep
in the woods
deep
in words
deep
in breath
smokin’
___________________
UNCLE
BILL’S CABIN III
—Patricia Hickerson
sitting
around the fireplace
Uncle
Bill telling stories
scratches
his belly
pulls
on his beard
talks
about Great Grandpa Zee
ran
a whorehouse/saloon
Raines
Law hotel just off the Avenue
whipped
his sons
till
they whipped him back
New
York smarty pants
shoved
kids off the sidewalk with his cane
aus
mit du!
made
a fortune
head
of the Manhattan German Masons
died
hated by many
what
was he like, really?
out
on the dream stump
another
stone cold ancestor to consider
feisty old man from Baden-Baden
Lorelei on the Rhine
did
she break his heart?
ich weis nicht was solis bedeuten
das ich so traurich bin
—Photo by Taylor Graham
CANTICLE: HOLES IN EARTH AND SKY
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
We left the Land of Hurricane, its anthem of rain
wringing wind ringing our dreams; trees pulled
by the roots out of landscape, mountains running
down streams where men afterwards fished
the waters for their friends, cousins, brothers
in the pools and eddies.
But on every side, the
Land of Fire
swept down on itself, burning everything. Smell
of charred roots. Everyone long gone, crying
“Weather!” as they fled. Nothing could stop
the people. History became wind, no breath
remaining.
We left all that for the Terrace
of Temblors. Tympani, kettledrums just offshore
in the sea troughs, thunder of oil barrels
underfoot as if we'd mined the Earth our mother
till she shuddered, lay down in her self and died.
Where shall we find a
cellar, a crawl-
space to wait till we can move with weather,
seasons, seeding time, a small plot of soil, spring
of fresh water; for rain we simply call “rain”
because we prayed so hard for it.
_____________________
SCREEN DOORS
—Taylor Graham
Who was it in my dream last night, gazing
through the screen door, then
turning away—a dog, skimming the ridgetop
above Winnemucca Lake; a clear
spot in the woods; Bradley Forest, Paint
Bank; a geyser-green pond floating
October leaves saffron and yellow lime.
Amber-black hair shining metal mesh
of screen projecting summers
past. In dream I called a name—Roxy—
but it changed to Cody Taco Prissy
Firebird out of time
and sequence, so many lost
names. And then, new pup Loki
licking me in the face awake,
the sun still dark behind Stone Mountain.
___________________
THE ADDITIONAL SECOND
—Michael Cluff, Corona
Fixing the atomic clock
last Saturday did not
increase my bank book interest
improve my peeling hairline
or elongated sex a bit longer.
That midnight came just
as dark as ever
and sleep was left undisturbed
by the slipping away
of a subparticle sliver
of my
or anyone's length
of remaining time.
___________________
Today's LittleNip:
SENRYUS
—Michael Cluff
New aquarium
surrogate children for Jane
photos now abound
No aim Saturday
reading two biographies
lives
I'm not leading
___________________
—Medusa
Dragonfly
—Photo by Katy Brown
