—Poems by William S. Gainer, Grass Valley, CA
—"Locke" Photo by Cynthia Linville, Sacramento
—"Locke" Photo by Cynthia Linville, Sacramento
MAINTENANCE GUIDE
Old age flaring up.
I've had it
a while now,
got it bad
everything
hurts—
The kid says
I should get
a prescription
he’s got a friend.
Yeah,
for now
I think I’ll just
stick with the bourbon.
See what tomorrow
looks like.
It’s only time.
I’ve done a lot of it.
Both kinds
young
and old.
_____________________
THE WHO I WAS
The weight loss
program
is working.
I’m down 45
and counting.
You should see me
now,
there’s almost
nothing left.
By this time
next year,
I should be
completely
gone …
—Photo by Cynthia Linville
SOMETHING GOT PAST
THE QUALITY CONTROL PEOPLE
There was something floating
in the Top Ramen.
Not sure what it was
a sample
a mistake
a test marketing ploy—
a piece of a finger?
Regardless
I ate it.
___________________
THE SCREAMS OF THE OLEANDERS
The Oleanders
have once again
been butchered.
Their skeletal remains
a tribute to my mastery
of residential yard care.
__________________
THE SOUND OF SNOW
It’s hard to hear
the snow.
Sometimes
you think maybe,
but no.
The wind spitting,
the trees cracking,
the splash of the tires,
but the snow
no.
It’s mostly
a gentle whisper
a cold kiss
something
to wipe from
an eyelash
sometimes
a smile from a lover
a friend.
Never a long
goodbye
a voice
raised
or a hint
of tricks
to be played.
Only the roar
of the quiet
and the snow.
—Anonymous
ONE WISH—
I wish
dogs could talk.
Cats, not so much.
They already have
a thousand ways
of telling the world
to fuck-off.
No need
for another.
____________________
THE QUIET OF IT ALL
Looking
out the kitchen window
I mentioned
I just raked the back
Rose (the dog)
is out there
making a mess.
Kae St. Marie
stirring the soup
answered with,
now you know
how I felt
when the kids
fucked-up
the snow.
She’d told me about it
before
how she liked to sit
with her coffee
look out
at the snow
and just listen
to the quiet of it all.
It seems
so much more
sinister
when told
today—
kids
fucked-up
snow.
I thought it best
to just compliment
the soup—
good,
very good.
Henry Cowell Redwoods, 2013
—Photo by Cynthia Linville
THE PEAR
I was saving the pear
for tomorrow’s lunch.
It’s gone now.
No evidence
it was ever
there,
or if it was
what happened.
I have suspicions
but don’t want to make
accusations.
She’s sleeping comfortably
on the couch.
I think I’ll cover her
let her rest.
There’s a crumpled
napkin
on the coffee table,
hers
I suppose.
Santuario de Chimayo
—Photo by Cynthia Linville
LATE NIGHT FLYING
Went flying last night,
late.
The moon was great,
I could see everything.
Was going to come by
peek in your window
but it was so
goddamned cold
I cut the trip short.
After all
the bed was warm
and I really
wasn’t dressed for it.
Flying
that is.
____________________
EAST BAY COFFEE SHOPS
Ice tea
and yoga pants.
One gets me
in the door
the other
keeps me there.
And oh yeah
there’s the company
of strangers.
But
if you want to
place a bet
go with
the yoga pants.
—Anonymous
A ROUND OF HASH BROWNS
What do you do
when it’s late—
and lonely
brushes your cheek?
Listen to Tom Waits
think of all the women
you’ve loved,
you love.
Hope one of them
loves you back.
But hey,
who knows.
Sometimes
it’s just about
how much
money you got
how many drinks
you can buy ...
and maybe a round
of hash browns
after—
a cup of coffee.
Who knows?
Who cares?
You need
somebody
to talk too
and tonight,
she does too,
you both do.
Anything else
is just a morning
with a stranger ...
everybody
trying to make
a clean getaway ...
___________________
TAPED TO THE REARVIEW,
PARKED IN FRONT OF THE SILVER CLUB,
A COLD FUCKING NIGHT—
A DAMP COCKTAIL NAPKIN
Christ I love you
even god knows it
why don’t you ...
—Anonymous Photo
TODD’S OBITUARY
(a friend in New Orleans)
I know
he ain’t dead.
But someone might ask
so I thought I’d get
a head start.
Be prepared.
It’s almost finished—
short, to the point.
“He drank in the afternoon
chased women all night
and died in a red dress.”
You can fill in the blanks.
There’s nothing too unusual
about the guy.
Nice smile
friendly sort.
Did I mention
he wrote poems?
Yeah—he wrote poems.
That’s probably
what got him in all that
trouble
but we don’t really wanta
go there.
Not in a guy’s obituary.
Not good.
Not good at all.
Let’s just
get him in the ground
hand his Jolly-Roger
to his mom
and try to get to the bar
before Happy Hour’s
over._____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SHANNON’S BABY BOY—
became a Marine today,
graduated from boot camp.
I hope we can keep him
as safe
as he hopes
to keep us.
___________________
Happy birthday, Bill, and thanks for the poems! William S. Gainer, Cynthia Linville and Sandy Thomas (see below) appear in the new WTF which premieres tomorrow night (Thursday, 2/18) at Luna’s Café in Sacramento.
—Medusa
WTF Editor frank andrick hosting his radio show,
Pomo Literati, at KUSF in Exile, San Francisco
—Photo by Sandy Thomas, Sacramento
