—Photos by Cynthia Linville, Sacramento
DORIAN THE MOVIE
—Jeanine Stevens, Sacramento
(After The Portrait of Dorian Gray,
from a story by Oscar Wilde)
He was handsome, young and new,
hair a slick wave and cravat studded with pearls.
I focused on the floral tea cozy,
expensive china cups and pastoral scenes
in gilt frames. Life progressed,
people loved him. Others grew old,
puffy, veins like slow
rivers rose thru papery skin.
Dorian remained in beauty,
but evil and scary, a face so immobile
I could peel a scrap of sea scroll
from his cheek. He turned people away;
they didn’t count. He didn’t age,
no children or wife to give worry.
Everyone said, “Sort of a miracle.”
With each evil act the portrait wrinkled,
sprouted age spots. Baggy eyes
and slack jaw tore at the canvas.
He hid the hideous rendition,
yet, in a moment of pride, recovered
his cracked image. The portrait abruptly
switched to Technicolor,
flesh shriveled, sagged beyond
recognition, paint became
blood. Some screamed;
a woman wept. It seemed his soul
got lost in pigment and brush strokes,
soul turned inside out to wash
away blackness, like the label in a seam:
“Instructions on how to launder.”
Out of the confusion of childhood,
I tried to link Dorian to stories
in my 4th grade reader.
Having just finished Aesop’s Fables,
I wondered about the moral,
could think of only a few: don’t be
mean, don’t grow old, don’t trust beauty,
and don’t get your portrait painted.
____________________
SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE REDUX
—Jeanine Stevens
In that decade, everything was Swedish,
songs of a summer night, wild strawberries,
and Marianne and Johan in the six-part
disintegration of a marriage.
I gave my class in “Family Studies”
the option of attending (with critique),
or a term paper on communication.
I was surprised so many came, but
after all the J Street Theater was the first
to serve espresso in little cups.
Long agonizing sequences
of Sunday dinners at Marianne’s
parents required an entire day of squabbles
and blame. Incapable of marriage
by their own admission, Marianne and Johan
do not separate. Neither satisfied
but too insecure to leave.
“Emotional illiterates,” he said.
Eventually they parted ways.
I hadn’t thought much about Bergman
lately until a film in this new century,
Sarabande, featuring Marianne and Johan
together again as friends (I think).
She visits (never found out why).
The final scene, he comes to her bed
with wet PJ’s. Please directors, let us have
our memories, hopes and fantasies,
or is this another kind of caring
I have yet to learn.
—Jeanine Stevens, Sacramento
(After The Portrait of Dorian Gray,
from a story by Oscar Wilde)
He was handsome, young and new,
hair a slick wave and cravat studded with pearls.
I focused on the floral tea cozy,
expensive china cups and pastoral scenes
in gilt frames. Life progressed,
people loved him. Others grew old,
puffy, veins like slow
rivers rose thru papery skin.
Dorian remained in beauty,
but evil and scary, a face so immobile
I could peel a scrap of sea scroll
from his cheek. He turned people away;
they didn’t count. He didn’t age,
no children or wife to give worry.
Everyone said, “Sort of a miracle.”
With each evil act the portrait wrinkled,
sprouted age spots. Baggy eyes
and slack jaw tore at the canvas.
He hid the hideous rendition,
yet, in a moment of pride, recovered
his cracked image. The portrait abruptly
switched to Technicolor,
flesh shriveled, sagged beyond
recognition, paint became
blood. Some screamed;
a woman wept. It seemed his soul
got lost in pigment and brush strokes,
soul turned inside out to wash
away blackness, like the label in a seam:
“Instructions on how to launder.”
Out of the confusion of childhood,
I tried to link Dorian to stories
in my 4th grade reader.
Having just finished Aesop’s Fables,
I wondered about the moral,
could think of only a few: don’t be
mean, don’t grow old, don’t trust beauty,
and don’t get your portrait painted.
____________________
SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE REDUX
—Jeanine Stevens
In that decade, everything was Swedish,
songs of a summer night, wild strawberries,
and Marianne and Johan in the six-part
disintegration of a marriage.
I gave my class in “Family Studies”
the option of attending (with critique),
or a term paper on communication.
I was surprised so many came, but
after all the J Street Theater was the first
to serve espresso in little cups.
Long agonizing sequences
of Sunday dinners at Marianne’s
parents required an entire day of squabbles
and blame. Incapable of marriage
by their own admission, Marianne and Johan
do not separate. Neither satisfied
but too insecure to leave.
“Emotional illiterates,” he said.
Eventually they parted ways.
I hadn’t thought much about Bergman
lately until a film in this new century,
Sarabande, featuring Marianne and Johan
together again as friends (I think).
She visits (never found out why).
The final scene, he comes to her bed
with wet PJ’s. Please directors, let us have
our memories, hopes and fantasies,
or is this another kind of caring
I have yet to learn.
Gargoyles in Santa Cruz
CROCODILE TEARS AND THE COWBOY MATINEE
—Kevin Jones, Elk Grove
Somewhere between home and the All-Western
Afternoon at the Wanee Theater, Stevie Krumtinger
Lost his quarter for the show. Lost his dime
For popcorn too. Stevie was nine, and
Did not seem to handle
Personal disaster well.
He set up a wail outside the box office
That would have scared the chaps off
The Sons of the Pioneers. A man came
Up, handed him a quarter: “Here, little
Boy. Enjoy the show!” But Stevie
Continued to snivel—he was a good sniveler—
“P-popcorn?” Guy tossed him a dime and
Walked off. Suddenly all smiles, Stevie led
The way to the ticket line. His act worked
For two or three more Saturdays before
Folks caught on. But by then, he’d saved
Enough for a couple of boxes of Milk
Duds. Some Frosty Malts as well.
—Kevin Jones, Elk Grove
Somewhere between home and the All-Western
Afternoon at the Wanee Theater, Stevie Krumtinger
Lost his quarter for the show. Lost his dime
For popcorn too. Stevie was nine, and
Did not seem to handle
Personal disaster well.
He set up a wail outside the box office
That would have scared the chaps off
The Sons of the Pioneers. A man came
Up, handed him a quarter: “Here, little
Boy. Enjoy the show!” But Stevie
Continued to snivel—he was a good sniveler—
“P-popcorn?” Guy tossed him a dime and
Walked off. Suddenly all smiles, Stevie led
The way to the ticket line. His act worked
For two or three more Saturdays before
Folks caught on. But by then, he’d saved
Enough for a couple of boxes of Milk
Duds. Some Frosty Malts as well.
THE VOCABULARY OF MOVEMENT
—William S. Gainer, Grass Valley
Modern dance,
must be
an acquired taste.
At the end
of the performance
all I could think
was—
those girls
really need
to wash
their feet.
__________________
CROSSING THE WATERS
—William S. Gainer
They’re saying
Jesus
walked on water.
That ain’t nothing.
I drove across
the Mighty Mississippi
in a rented Ford
automobile,
fifty feet
above it all.
So yeah—
I’m available
for taking your
prayers.
Don’t be surprised
if it takes a while
to get back to you
though,
like Jesus,
I’m a busy guy.
___________________
WAITING FOR THE FLOOD
—William S. Gainer
The water's always
wetter
than you thought,
deeper too.
But hell,
if it’s going to
rain
all you can do
is wait for the flood.
Sometimes it comes,
sometimes
no.
And it’s always wetter
than you thought
and most times
deeper too.
With luck
you can keep a toe
on the bottom,
the chin up
high enough,
and find a hand
to pull you out …
but, sometimes
no.
It’s just how
floods work,
always wetter
than you thought.
—William S. Gainer, Grass Valley
Modern dance,
must be
an acquired taste.
At the end
of the performance
all I could think
was—
those girls
really need
to wash
their feet.
__________________
CROSSING THE WATERS
—William S. Gainer
They’re saying
Jesus
walked on water.
That ain’t nothing.
I drove across
the Mighty Mississippi
in a rented Ford
automobile,
fifty feet
above it all.
So yeah—
I’m available
for taking your
prayers.
Don’t be surprised
if it takes a while
to get back to you
though,
like Jesus,
I’m a busy guy.
___________________
WAITING FOR THE FLOOD
—William S. Gainer
The water's always
wetter
than you thought,
deeper too.
But hell,
if it’s going to
rain
all you can do
is wait for the flood.
Sometimes it comes,
sometimes
no.
And it’s always wetter
than you thought
and most times
deeper too.
With luck
you can keep a toe
on the bottom,
the chin up
high enough,
and find a hand
to pull you out …
but, sometimes
no.
It’s just how
floods work,
always wetter
than you thought.
View from the Train
MY BOY SCOUT DAYS—
—William S. Gainer
I remember those days,
too many rules.
You weren't supposed to
use a firearm
unless accompanied
by an adult.
Could lead
to some very awkward
situations.
I was trying to make it through
the fire-starting class,
get a merit badge
hang it on my sash
act like I was
somebody,
but the troop leader
was of the opinion
that the three of us,
me
and two of my brothers,
enjoyed the quest for combustibility
a bit too much.
We didn't even get to keep
the waterproof matches.
These days
my camping experiences
are pretty much confined
to the Travelodge, a rented car,
and the waitress
pouring
the morning coffee.
I'll probably go to my grave
never having started
a fire
with two sticks
and a string.
Christ, the emptiness
of it all ...
___________________
THE LOUDEST MAN IN THE ROOM
raises his voice
brags
failure,
compliments change
for not having feet,
good for having no ears
and the conspiracies
for keeping him
from becoming king.
The loudest man
in the room believes
one of us
somewhere—
one of us
cares
about his
demand
for mediocrity—
acceptances
of it.
The loudest
man
in the room
is just—loud.
—William S. Gainer
____________________
SHOPPING FOR A DREAM
—William S. Gainer
Maybe they have
something else,
something
that will take you places,
places
where the women
glide,
pull their faces
close
outline your lips
with whiskey-dipped
fingers—
offer one last
kiss
before never
saying
goodbye …
___________________
YOU'LL HAVE TO ASK,
"WHY, WHY DID THEY ..."
—William S. Gainer
Yeah,
there was another woman—
Patzie.
They wrote love poems
to one another.
Some true, some not,
they had fun.
She got sick, took a while,
gone now.
She was a little older,
him—banged around some,
it showed.
Time
gave them about
that much,
not much,
about as much
as you can squeeze
between two fingers
when they’re pinched
tight—
not much.
Yeah,
they used to write
love poems
to one another.
He still does.
___________________
ME AND MRS. MAGOO
—William S. Gainer
It’s me and Kae St. Marie,
the odd dreams again—
I’m like Mr. Magoo
her, Mrs. Magoo.
We’re at Disneyland,
checking out
the restrooms,
“Oh, this is nice.”
“Look, they got soap!”
We’re up to 13 now,
still working on it.
I’m sleeping good
though,
Mrs. Magoo too.
___________________
Today's LittleNip:
I have wondered how things would've been different in America
if Christopher Columbus had been funded to explore by the English instead of Spain
It probably wasn’t beyond the new rule of the Tudors in 1492
to think of international colonizing for their crown and country
For one thing, the English likely wouldn’t have brought slavery to the “New World”
English had indentured servitude, but people could buy themselves out of it
However, Spain at the same time kidnapped and stole people from Africa to be slaves
The English thought of themselves as superior to Africans
but the idea of buying and selling Africans would have been disgusting to many
Also perhaps Henry VII also would not have Columbus arrested and shamed in 1500—
Queen Isabella was one mean, bloody betraying bitch who started the Inquisition as well as expelled Jews
If the America's first colonizers had perhaps been funded instead by the women of the Tudor household
California's Capitol Building today wouldn’t have Isabella's statue…
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento
if Christopher Columbus had been funded to explore by the English instead of Spain
It probably wasn’t beyond the new rule of the Tudors in 1492
to think of international colonizing for their crown and country
For one thing, the English likely wouldn’t have brought slavery to the “New World”
English had indentured servitude, but people could buy themselves out of it
However, Spain at the same time kidnapped and stole people from Africa to be slaves
The English thought of themselves as superior to Africans
but the idea of buying and selling Africans would have been disgusting to many
Also perhaps Henry VII also would not have Columbus arrested and shamed in 1500—
Queen Isabella was one mean, bloody betraying bitch who started the Inquisition as well as expelled Jews
If the America's first colonizers had perhaps been funded instead by the women of the Tudor household
California's Capitol Building today wouldn’t have Isabella's statue…
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento
_________________
—Medusa
Berkeley Municipal Pier
