HUNTING DOWN THE WORDS
—David Wright, Sacramento
Unless words come flying in,
If they won't
and I try to
force the issue,
it reminds me when we opened the curtain of the
big window and some little bird crashed.
A little hummer let's say,
Crashes had into the glass.
We rush out to see and find him almost
Lifeless on the patio.
My first instinct was to kill!
Forgive me for that.
Put the little jewel of a bird out of misery.
Insanely beautiful colors and that delicate beak.
You whispered to me to wait, and I did.
And then the little guy came to and flew off.
"To live another day,”
Why won't you admit you said it?
And so if stifled and wordless, I go out back to the
pit we call the
"Snake-Bite Pit", and I stick my heart in there to get
snake-bit. And with the good warm venom in my blood,
Words appear on the page again.
Does anyone really love a blank page?
Still, I ought to leave it be, like that bird.
But I am made to kill and killing I shall do.
Tonight's themes, like all nights, must be
Joy, suffering, birth & death.
If you hadn't been so badly tamed you'd
smell it on my breath.
There are countless roles to play.
He can be the curtain and she can be the windows.
And you can be the hummer; I know that's the role you want.
I shall be the one who, in wanting to kill you, made you save yourself.
—Medusa, with thanks to David Wright for this fine poem about writing, and a reminder that we have a choice of poetry events today: the Gallery 1955 reception in Davis for a new exhibit (art screen prints with poems by Francisco Alarcón), or (if it’s not too late to sign up) the Wakamatsu Workshop in Placerville from 1-3pm with Taylor Graham and Katy Brown. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.