XXVI
—Philip Larkin
This is the first thing
I have understood:
Time is the echo of an axe
Within a wood.
(from The North Ship, 1945)
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•••Tonight (4/15), the Underground Poetry Series will feature Khiry Malik Moore and Laura Cook at Underground Books, 2814 35th St., Sac., 7 pm. $3. Info: 916-737-3333.
•••The Pomo Literati presents poets and writers on Sunday (4/16), 2-4 pm. This is a two-hour quarterly radio program that spotlights the spoken word. This week, Bill Pieper will read from Gomez, a novel that sets Anais Nin and Henry Miller together in San Francisco in the swingin’ 70’s. Check out the characters and the locations! Author Bill Pieper was the winner of Best Fiction/Drama Book Award 2003-04 by the Northern California Publishers and Authors and Association. Also: LadyMonster brings poems and news of the May 12th Benefit in support of the Memphis 3 travesty, which will feature Henry Rollins, Jonathon Richmond and others in performance, plus artwork available for sale on site. Prerecorded works by Diane di Prima, Henry Rollins, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Philip Lamantia, The Germ and frank andrick (Aurelia Occultica Lamantia, published by Rattlesnake Press), plus Patti Smith w/Television. Available on the airwaves at 90.3 FM or go global via internet: www.live365.com/stations/kusf questions. Info: fandrickfabpub@hotmail.com or 209-727-5179.
•••Monday (4/17, Income Tax Day!), Rattlechapper (Northwind on I-5) Frank Taber will read for the Sacramento Poetry Center about, among other things, earthquakes. Headquarters for the Arts, 25th & R Sts., Sac., 7:30 pm. Click on the link to the right of this for more info.
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ABSENCES
—Philip Larkin
Rain patters on a sea that tilts and sighs.
Fast-running floors, collapsing into hollows,
Tower suddenly, spray-haired. Contrariwise,
A wave drops like a wall: another follows,
Wilting and scrambling, tirelessly at play
Where there are no ships and no shallows.
Above the sea, the yet more shoreless day,
Riddled by wind, trails lit-up galleries:
They shift to giant ribbing, sift away.
Such attics cleared of me! Such absences!
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DAYS
—Philip Larkin
What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.
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—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.)