Saturday, October 04, 2008

Ever Duck and Pinker?


Photo of a British sign
by
Katy Brown, Davis



CRIME, PASSION AND EVIDENCE OF OUTLAW DUCKS
—William S. Gainer, Grass Valley


Opening the windows
it smelled like
the yard was full of
duck shit.
Standing on the porch—
coffee cup in hand,
I noticed
the tulips
were gone,
the pansies and daffodils—
reduced to a few weeping
stems,
the little patch of lawn—
nibbled to its roots,
the elephant eared fern—
once a champion,
severely abused,
even the roses
had taken a beating
and yes,
the yard was full
of duck shit.

_________________

COWBOY WHITTLES
—Phil Weidman, Pollock Pines

Cowboy sits on an empty nail keg
with several folded gunny sacks
for cushioning and whittles away
a weathered piece of pine board.

He balances a toothpick
on his lower lip,
shifts it to the corner
of his mouth and says…

Wife knits to relax.
I whittle.
She ends up with
something useful.
Pretty, even.
Me, I end up with nothing.

Cowboy balances the toothpick,
gives me a sly look
and says: but nothing’s where
everything starts, ain’t it?

__________________

GLASS OF WINE ON TABLE
—Marie J. Ross, Stockton

She sits across the table,
notices her date is practically
two sheets to the wind.
She excuses her self, “going
to powder room” she states.
Front door opens into night;
moon high, she feels romantic,
yet she turns and walks out the door.
He too inebriated, she too cautious.
Another restaurant a few blocks
away, Italian, her favorite;
she follows the aroma, sits at cloth
table, orders glass of Merlot and main course.
Everything in moderation;
she knows her limit, her surrender to
safe sex: But He Was Inebriated.
Two days later
she parties with friends, gimlets, martinis
on the menu.
One glass of wine on the table;
she respects life, especially her own,
She is cautious not to drive until Merlot
is absorbed by food. One more child to
run and play, one more adult to parent
that child.
Everything In Moderation;
Hi Sis, I'm Home.

___________________

BOTTLE TILTS
—Marie J. Ross

The bottle tilts,
releases high blur
and uncontrolled
want for the sensual.
Do they remember
to indulge in safe sex,
to cover the chance of
HIV? Only takes a few
breathless moments.
Do they drive their cars,
head clear as a bell, cautious
and law-limit aware?
Bottle tilts, warm in hand,
amber liquid a pleasing slide
down the throat.
Giddy, happy-high, too-high;
thump, one less child to know of life.
Go to nearest drug store, purchase,
condoms, don’t spread stupidity
to the innocent.
Buckle up, drive the safe speed, respect
life, not just your own,
pass the liquor store, go to supermarket
instead.
Sweet orange juice, bottled water, power
drinks: leave one more child alive and one
more adult to parent that child.

__________________

Thanks to Marie Ross for the response to last Tuesday's Seed of the Week!

Tom Goff sends us a poem, along with the following comment: I noticed B.L. Kennedy's mention of a book on the Great Flu, and can also recommend John M. Barry's work on the same subject, The Great Influenza, as we have a copy here at Folsom Lake College.

Reading through it, I was very much struck by the high likelihood that Woodrow Wilson was a sufferer from the flu, and this may have compromised his efforts at Versailles to make World War One the last war. And of course, the immense social disruption and suffering elsewhere...

__________________

TELL MY HANDS WHAT CABINET
—Tom Goff, Carmichael

Will it get worse yet,
if, simply going about
my simple duties,

I cannot connect thing
and word, step and step,
taking fright as my mind

seizes up? Just feeding
the dogs, unable to
tell my hands what cabinet

yields me the kibbles,
what action of the hand
will close around the pills

I disguise in the little ones’
soft and tasty food, I look
at the immensity of the task,

feel it connected to the immensity
of my mind, but probe, then grope out
gaps, loosenings of filament, maybe

one huge gap, and my conscious
hand-mind, the constructor of plot,
recoils from the blankening

abyss, as if the uprush of air
hissed from the bottomless,
as if, as if reflex snatched my fingers

back from jet flame: the brain
those fingers, but also an uncertain
paper, the paper and its graying,

then blackening in a lit
fireplace, immolation
the delicately

encroaching licks
now spit-curling
the edges.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

I was too slow a mover. It was much easier to be a poet.

—T.S. Eliot, on giving up boxing in college


__________________




—Medusa

SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:


Coming in October: October’s release at The Book Collector on Weds., Oct. 8, will feature a new rattlechap from Moira Magneson (He Drank Because) and a littlesnake broadside from Hatch Graham (Circling of the Pack). That's at the Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM. Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else’s.

Then, on Thursday, Oct. 30, 8 PM, Rattlesnake Press will release two SpiralChaps to honor and celebrate Luna’s Café, including a new collection of art and poetry from B.L. Kennedy (Luna’s House of Words) and an anthology of Luna’s poets, artists and photographs (La Luna: Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café) edited by Frank Andrick. Come travel with our Away Team as we leave the Home of the Snake for a brief road trip/time travel to Luna’s Café, 1414 16th St., Sacramento to celebrate Art Luna and the 13 years of Luna's long-running poetry series. Who knows what auspicious adventures await us there??

And check out B.L. Kennedy’s interview with Art Luna in the latest Rattlesnake Review (#19)! Free copies are available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I’ll mail you one (address below). Next deadline, by the way, is November 15.

Coming in November: November will feature a new rattlechap from Red Fox Underground Poet Wendy Patrice Williams (Some New Forgetting); a littlesnake broadside from South Lake Tahoe Poet Ray Hadley; our 2009 calendar from Katy Brown (Beyond the Hill: A Poet’s Calendar) as well as Conversations, Vol. 4 of B.L. Kennedy’s Rattlesnake Interview Series. That’s Weds., November 12, 7:30 PM at The Book Collector.


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOWs; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far and in-between! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events, to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.