Snails and Summer Reading

SUMMER PROGRAM
—Jeanine Stevens, Sacramento

Evening, sixth floor dorm
Oxford's rose-gold towers.
I came to escape,
bury myself in Roman
hill forts and long barrows.

Ancestral breezes disturb
lace curtains. You
are a stranger beside me,
but still familiar. Peter Pan
disguised in knowledge
and a white linen suit?

Summertime,
Porgy and Bess on the radio
from the next room, brings
me back. I'll take
my "A" and go home.

(Previously published in Promise Magazine)

_______________________

SUMMER READING
—Jeanine Stevens

Then, pain jumps off the screen:
"The Purple Heart", a tongue
removed, silent screaming
in "The Reign of Terror"
Robespierre headless, Dorian's
entire body inside out,
every slick color of the rainbow.
I begin to understand the heart
of William Wallace from days
in darkened theaters, stale
butter and blackness protects
as pictures grind out from stuffy
projection booths, a tinny hum,
a few short hours of air—cooled
by a penguin who ice skates
across a frozen green pond
smoking Kool cigarettes.
Fourteenth summer, sunburned,
bored, the L.A. County Library,
I borrow a book—Human Torture
Through The Ages. Finally,
Mother learns to drive, I become
normal, we go shopping.

(Previously published in Hodgepodge)

________________________

Thanks, Jeanine!

The new issue of Snakelets, the journal of poetry from kids 0-12, is out. Pick one up at The Book Collector this afternoon; contributor copies will go into the mail this week. Now I can burrow into Snake 10, pull that lazy rascal out of hibernation.

Today (5/24), there will be a Hidden Passage Poetry reading from 6 to 7 pm at Hidden Passage Books, 352 Main St. in Placerville. It's an open-mic read-around, so bring your own poems or those of a favorite poet to share—or just come to listen. (Yes, that’s the bookstore with the skeleton under the floor…)

Today is also National Escargot Day. Who does one turn to for poems about snails, other than Russell Edson, of course! This one isn't really about snails, but still it's one of my favorites:

WITH SINCEREST REGRETS
—Russell Edson
(for Charles Simic)

Like a monstrous snail a toilet slides into a living room on a track of wet, demanding to be loved.

It is impossible, and we tender our sincerest regrets. In the book of the heart there is no mention made of plumbing.

And though we have spent our intimacy many times with you, you belong to an unfortunate reference, which we would rather not embrace...

The toilet slides away on another track of wet...

_______________________

Happy Escargot Day, and bon appetit!

—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.)