Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Are You Missing a Bet?

MAUDLIN
—Sylvia Plath

Mud-mattressed under the sign of the hag
In a clench of blood, the sleep-talking virgin
Gibbets with her curse the moon's man,
Faggot-bearing Jack in his crackless egg:

Hatched with a claret hogshead to swig
He kings it, navel-knit to no groan,
But at the price of a pin-stiched skin
Fish-tailed girls purchase each white leg.

________________________

Are you missing an opportunity to publish poems on Medusa? Here it is—April 18— and so far this month Medusa hasn't received one poem from local poets. Send us your poems! And previously-published ones are just dandy for Medusa. Heck—what else are you gonna do with 'em?

The new Poetry Flash is out; pick one up around town, including at The Book Collector. Or subscribe: send $16 for six issues (or $30 for 12) to Poetry Flash, 1450 Fourth St. #4, Berkeley, CA 94710. Lots of on-line stuff: www.poetryflash.org. Nestled among the articles and poetry and announcements of NorCal events are these:

•••Squaw Valley Community of Writers (July 22-29) will feature Robert Hass, Harryette Mullen, Sharon Olds, C.D. Wright, and Dean Young this year. Deadline for submissions is May 10: info@squawvalleywriters.org or 530-470-8440 for info. Or look at www.squawvalleywriters.org.

•••California Poets in the Schools is always looking for donations: CPITS, 1333 Balboa St., Ste. 3, SF 84118. Visit www.cpits.org.

•••The jaunty Poesy Magazine's Special 30th Celebration Edition is available for $2 plus $1 postage: Zeitgeist Press, 1630 University Av. #34, Berkeley, CA 94703, or order at www.zeitgeist-press.com.


METAPHORS
—Sylvia Plath

I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising;
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.

________________________

Some elaborations on yesterday's calendar:

•••Sunday (4/23), Rattlechapper-to-be (November) Jane Blue will read at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac., at 4 pm. Jane Blue was born and raised in Berkeley, California. She has an M.A. in English with an emphasis on Creative Writing from U.C. Davis. Her poems have been published in many magazines, including The Chattahoochee Review, The Montserrat Review, Poetry International, Antigonish, The Louisville Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, Salt Hill, and in the e-zines Blaze and Stirring. Her work has also appeared in the anthology, Proposing on the Brooklyn Bridge: Poems about Marriage. Jane is a member of the Sacramento Poetry Center, and edited their literary magazine, The Tule Review, for four years. She is the author of Now that I am in the Light I See (Konocti Books, 1996) and The Persistence of Vision (Poet's Corner Press, 2003). Info about Sunday’s reading: 916-442-9295.

•••Appel Gallery in Sacramento is hosting a reading by "Tree Stories" poets Sunday, April 30th at 7 p.m. Appel Gallery is located at 931 T Street, at the corner of 10th & T Streets. Regional poets reading include Joseph Finkleman, Susan Hennies, Rebecca Morrison, Taylor Graham & Brigit Truex. Please join us for this closing celebration of "Tree Stories", a showing of mixed media photographs by Judith Monroe. If you didn't get a chance to see "Tree Stories," yet, this will be a great opportunity to see the images in person. To learn more about the on-going Tree Stories project, see http://www.tree-stories.blogspot.com.


STILLBORN
—Sylvia Plath

These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.
They grew their toes and fingers well enough,
Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.
If they missed out on walking about like people
It wasn't for any lack of mother love.

O I cannot understand what happened to them!
They are proper in shape and number and every part.
They sit so nicely in the pickling fluid!
They smile and smile and smile and smile at me.
And still the lungs won't fill and the heart won't start.

They are not pigs, they are not even fish,
Though they have a piggy and a fishy air—
It would be better if they were alive, and that's what they were.
But they are dead, and their mother near dead with distraction,
And they stupidly stare, and do not speak of her.

________________________

Surely you have poems that live! Send them in; the Snakes of Medusa need their daily feed..........

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)