IN THANKS FOR THE MIGHTY TOWER
(In Memoriam of My Days as a Tower Records Employee, 2004-2006)
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento
Thirty years ago,
tongue-tied and dazzled
I perched, afternoons, by the record store counter,
unmolested, unchallenged for hours,
listened to music,
wore out my welcome
while cashiers talked the talk,
wannabe musicians yawned through their day jobs,
rocker hangers-on sauntered by—
yet the business tolerated me
though I rarely bought.
Record stores then, basically, like today’s,
although we count time in pixels now,
rocker-cashiers juggle career plans
and 401K’s with parties and pot—
now I work at the mighty Tower,
stock shelves, run the reg,
try to be extra kind to those “just listening.”
I love this simple work
that lets me listen, take music deeply inside,
awakening passion, harmony,
that my feet might find destiny’s tracks,
despite eyes still blind, heart dark blue.
_______________________
Thanks, Ann! Tower was such a fixture in Sacramento, and eventually in other parts of the world, too. Anybody (besides Ann and me) remember the listening booths?
Rattle-read tonight:
•••Tonight (Weds., 1/10), Rattlesnake Press presents Pearl Stein Selinsky reading from her new rattlechap, Vic & Me, at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac., 7:30 PM. Read-around follows; bring your own poems or somebody else's.
Some coming events you might want to take note of:
•••The venerable Berkeley Poet's Dinner/Contest (#81!): postmark deadline for entries is 1/17/07—just a week away!! Event date is 3/17/07. For complete rules and info, visit www.bayareapoetscoalition.org and click on the Poet's Dinner/Contest link. (Reminder: you must be present to win.)
•••A week from Saturday (1/20), 11:30 AM to 3:30 PM: Artists Embassy International presents Confluence of the Arts: Poetry Reading, Art Show, Dance Performance with Notable Poets, Laureates, Dancing Poetry Festival Grand Prize Winners, Poetic Dance, Poetic/Visual Art, refreshments. The Alameda Historical & Art Museum, 2324 Alameda Ave., Alameda, CA. Info: 510-235-0361 or naticaaei@aol.com. (This event is not to be confused with their annual Dancing Poetry Contest, which is held each Fall.)
•••A week from Sunday (1/21), 12-2 PM: Sacramentans Chip Spann and Elizabeth Robinson will be reading at Vesuvio in San Francisco, 255 Columbus Ave. at Jack Kerouac Alley (between Broadway and Pacific), San Francisco, CA 94133. Vesuvio, world-renowned saloon (across from City Lights Bookstore) in San Francisco’s North Beach, remains a historical monument to jazz, poetry, art and the good life of the Beat Generation. Chip and Elizabeth say: Each year we gather at Vesuvio to rattle our raucous souls, scream against the injustices and celebrate the joy of being alive. Join in the fun with business people, foreign visitors, healers, philosophers, mythologists, cab drivers, wise elders, off duty exotic dancers and bon vivants. Info: www.vesuvio.com, (916) 446-6160, chipspann@sbcglobal.net or elizabethmyth@sbcglobal.net.
_______________________
MR. NO NAME
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento
Mr. No Name
No Name man to the world
has a name
went to school when young—
before life and the world took his name
before visions and limits
taught him to bark out loud
tonight cradles himself
in a cold, concrete corner
where I pass him nightly
walking home, way too late—
the night watchman
turns a blind eye
cold wind, hard ground
bad food, no love
paper coffee cup placed carefully by his head
greasy, ancient coat,
papers and rags cover his tiny, frail frame
gray beard, lusterless eyes still visible
eyes blink a shy greeting
as I walk by
through obsidian night
_______________________
ON EASY STREET
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento
For just a buck,
I bought a thrift store pair of cords,
olive, leafy green
not the green of spring leaves
but sunburned, dried, autumn green,
with hints of brown if one squints,
corduroy worn softer than alpaca
or cashmere from a baby goat,
cords washed in another life in a wringer by hand
with Borateem by a wood fire,
then hung out on the line
frozen like a board in icy air—
now, they will keep me warm.
Their steel button at the waist,
grommeted right through the flap,
will hold forever,
but the zipper needs work—
torn out of its fly, it hangs loose like a cut lip
gaps like a tooth lost in a fight
after too much to drink,
or perhaps just loosening in aging gums,
no dental insurance to keep up appearances.
No matter—
they’ll mend,
I’ll cross-stitch the zipper back into place,
cinch my belt atop their generous hang
that gives me room to move, sit, and run,
roll up their too-long, men’s legs into cuffs,
giving my ancient cords
dignity, stability, a tenth life.
________________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, 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.)