In case you missed it, Sac Bee Metro section had a big article yesterday (5/29) about Sac poet and reed man Gene Avery; check it out. Every inch of space that poetry gets in The Bee is—well, another inch of space...
Meanwhile, I'm typing Snake 6, who will be slamming out of his den in time for the Zeppa reading June 8 (a week from Wednesday) at The Book Collector. This issue is bursting at the seams with poems about snakes, as the last gaggle of poets slips under the wire for the Fangs I deadline. Here is one heckuva fine sample from our lovely Carol Frith. Look up Quetzal on the Net, admire his beautiful tail:
Quetzal
by Carol Frith
A snake? I've forgotten how to write
a serpent. Quetzal, with your feathered scales
and brother to the moon? A god, not quite
a snake. And I've forgotten how to write
about the moon, who slept with you, her light
a memory that all light somehow fails.
Bright snake, I've forgotten how to write
about you...Quetzal with your feathered scales.
(First person to identify the form of "Quetzal", either by e-mail or otherwise, gets a free copy of debee loyd's new rattlechap, noon, twilight, midnight.)
Manana—
Medusa (aka the Wrangler)