The Year's Doors Open

JANUARY FIRST
—Elizabeth Bishop

The year’s doors open
like those of language,
toward the unknown.
Last night you told me:

tomorrow

we shall have to think up signs,
sketch a landscape, fabricate a plan
on the double page
of day and paper.
Tomorrow, we shall have to invent,
once more,
the reality of this world.

I opened my eyes late.
For a second of a second
I felt what the Aztec felt,
on the crest of the promontory,
lying in wait
for time’s uncertain return
through cracks in the horizon.

But no, the year had returned.
It filled all the room
and my look almost touched it.
Time, with no help from us,
had placed
in exactly the same order as yesterday
houses in the empty street,
snow on the houses,
silence on the snow.

You were beside me,
still asleep.
The day had invented you
but you hadn’t yet accepted
being invented by the day.
—Nor possibly my being invented, either.
You were in another day.

You were beside me
and I saw you, like the snow,
asleep among appearances.
Time, with no help from us,
invents houses, streets, trees
and sleeping women.

When you open your eyes
we’ll walk, once more,
among the hours and their inventions.
We’ll walk among appearances
and bear witness to time and its conjugations.
Perhaps we’ll open the day’s doors.
And then we shall enter the unknown.

_______________

The Kitchen will go dark for the next few days, with no postings until sometime into the new year. Meanwhile, open the doors to your own new year with next Tuesday’s Seed of the Week: Opening doors. Take this one loosely: the future, resolutions, opportunities, change, taking chances—anything that rings in the new year for you.

Lest you be bored while Medusa sleeps, I’ve taken the time to make a list of every SOW we’ve had since we started last February. Set Calliope upon a few of them, send ’em in. No deadlines on SOW’s. (And let me know if I've missed any.)


PHOTOS/ART:

•••sketch of person in hammock by Steph Schaefer
•••“tired dog” photo sent in by Steve Williams
•••eggs in nest
•••keys on a ring
•••fire-watch station in the mountains
•••hat hanging on hatrack
•••acorn
•••sand castle
•••magic lantern


FORMS:

•••tyburn
•••etheree
•••“found” poem


TOPICS:

•••Condense a famous poem into an epigram/couplet
•••Seeds
•••Poetic Left-overs (good ideas that didn’t quite fit into other poems)
•••Mary Oliver quote: “Here you are—alive. Would you like to make a comment?”
•••Sleep
•••The Heart Once Broken
•••Beauty in Unexpected Places
•••Porches
•••The Letter You’ll Never Send
•••Sex
•••Let us know what the subject is without actually naming it
•••Birthplace Revisited
•••Scents
•••After Midnight
•••It all started…
•••The One That Got Away
•••Argument/debate/dueling poems: two poems w/contradictory ideas
•••Things We Keep, Things We Leave Behind
•••Fall
•••Dogs
•••Cats
•••Things we’re afraid to write about
•••The Museum of My Life
•••Bus Ride to Hell
•••Poems in the form of questions
•••Beyond the Trappings
•••Secret Gardens & Other Enchanted Places
•••Fishing
•••Light
•••Waiting
•••When the Fog Lifts
•••Oh, Those Appetites!

__________________

And, as if you need any more books, Ann Wehrman writes that she recently read a novel by Lisa See called Peony in Love. She says: It's about a Chinese female poet several centuries ago, and is very powerful and romantic—so if you need just one more thing to add to your reading list, it's a very enjoyable read.

About yesterday's lemons:


A SERMON ENDING WITH LEMONS
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento

Pastor Brad at Arcade Church gave away lemons
perhaps adding an after-Christmas extension of his lesson
to discussion of making the best one can do through bad times
which he knew of with his challenges with teaching troubled teens
and the soon-change of church leadership to possibly change his role
It was if he wanted to say
if life have given you lemons like me
even if it be the chilly mid-winter and not summertime
now go yonder forth to make lemonade

__________________

Coming up: Two workshops

(1) Between the Sheets: Love in All the Write Places

Monika Rose, Manzanita Editor and member of Writers Unlimited, writes: Looking for love in all the write places? Looking for a romantic weekend? Something different to fire up your love life? Or do you know friends who could use a jump start in their love life by writing sensual poetry and prose? Mark your calendars and sign up for "Between the Sheets", a Romantic Prose and Poetry Writing Workshop Sat., Feb. 14, Valentine's Day, at the Leger Hotel in Mokelumne Hill, with workshop leaders Lucy Sanna, fiction, and Monika Rose with Ed Cline, poetry. Celebrate romance with your significant other, or come as a single, or with friends, looking for love in all the write places—in writing either romantic poetry or hot flash fiction on the spot. Workshop leaders will guide you through some poetry and flash fiction moves and will provide resources and techniques to bring out or hone your raw talent in the morning.

The Workshop, Luncheon and Public Reading begins at 9 AM, with lunch at noon, and culminating in the reading at 2 PM. The Leger Hotel is 45 miles east of Stockton in the Mother Lode foothills of Northern California. Last year's event was such a great success, we decided to add this new twist: a morning hands-on workshop, in which you can get in the mood for a romantic day and write either love poems or romantic prose on the spot. If you want to just come for the luncheon and public romantic reading in the afternoon, then you can do that, too. You can read your own or your favorite love poems and prose by writers. As an added treat, Antoinette May will be joining us for the luncheon and reading, teasing us with a reading of steamy passages from either her novel, Pilate's Wife, and/or her new novel, due out in March.

For workshop reservations: mrosemanza@jps.net/; for hotel reservations: hotelleger@aol.com/. Cost for the workshop is $50 per person, which includes morning workshop, luncheon and reading, as well as specialty prizes awarded for best works created in the workshops. (The prizes include items from the Clements Chocolate Factory!) You will come away with an amazing poem or two, or a flash fiction work, at the end of the session. Sign up today for either the romantic poetry or flash fiction workshop, and reserve your spot. Mail $50 to Writers Unlimited, PO Box 632, San Andreas, CA 95242. If you just want to come for the luncheon and reading open to the public, from 12-4, then it's $25. Reservations required!

There will be a Leger Hotel Discount (15%) for workshop participants for overnight stays at the Leger Hotel. This is a wonderful Romantic getaway weekend in the Mother Lode for writers and their significant others, or for singles looking for literary adventure and connections in the wild, sexy West. Reserve your room directly with the hotel and mention this workshop for the discount.

Sponsor: Writers Unlimited, an affiliate of the Calaveras County Arts Council, (209) 754-1774 or 754-0577. E-mail: mrosemanza@jps.net Contact: Monika.


(2) Meaning and Its Meanings:

A workshop for writers interesting in exploring new depths in the work of poetry at Cache Creek Nature Preserve, Thursdays, 10 AM-noon, from January 11-March 15 (10 weeks). Free to the general public, by advance registration only. Join Writer-in-Residence Rae Gouirand for a workshop about centers of meaning in our lives as writers and the meaning that poetry offers, in an new era of responsibility, to our communities and our culture. Rae writes: In this workshop, we'll examine what meaning means to us—where it comes from, what it inspires —and stretch our activities as poets beyond the page with individual, self-directed projects that explore the life of poetry in our communities. Participants in this workshop will be developing new work each week from writing assignments, and will be building a portfolio of both new poems as well as reflective writings from their individual projects. This workshop would be an ideal commitment for those who wish not only to find support for new writing, but who would also like to practice new poetry off the page. The ultimate goal, as with all CCNP workshops, is to stimulate new growth, new thinking, and new direction for creative practice. We proceed not as a critique-oriented workshop but as a generative community. All interested community members are welcome, regardless of whether or not they already think of themselves as 'writers’. We are extraordinarily lucky, in this economy, to continue to have the support of the Teichert Foundation and of Cache Creek Nature Preserve to fund and host this workshop series again this year. In the spirit of honoring these resources we are so lucky to have, participants are expected to attend sessions regularly, to arrive on time for each meeting, and to support one another by remaining on site to pursue independent creative work during the second half of each meeting. Please consider this before registering. Carpools from Davis and Sacramento can be arranged at the first meeting.

The Writer-in-Residence program at Cache Creek Nature Preserve provides an unparalleled opportunity to learn from the local landscape and to experience the connection between the natural world and creative practice. The outdoor classroom and gathering spirit make this workshop series a unique opportunity for those who would like to grow their creative lives from the support of both human and natural community. Following group discussion, the second half of each class session is devoted to independent work (via hikes, birdwatching, sense work, on-site writing, etc) at the Preserve site, though (since we are getting an earlier start than usual this year) we will hold the first hour of class indoors, in the Education Office, until the weather is warm enough to resume our work outdoors.

The Preserve is located in rural Yolo County, five miles northwest of Woodland, California. The 130-acres of outdoor classroom are augmented by indoor offices and an antique barn. The surrounding habitats include riparian forest, wetlands, willow thickets, open water, heritage oak woodlands, and grasslands bordered on one side by Cache Creek. Participants should dress for the weather and wear shoes comfortable for walking outdoors. To register, email Rae at rgouirand@gmail.com with your name, email address, and phone number. Space is limited, and participants will be enrolled in the order in which registrations are received. Confirmed participants will receive driving directions to the Preserve by email in the week preceding the start of class.

__________________

Today’s BigNip:

SONNET ADDRESSED TO HENRY III ON THE DEATH
OF THULENE, THE KING’S FOOL
—Jean Passerat (1534-1602)

Thulène is dead, my lord, I saw his funeral.
But it is in your power to bring him back again.
Appoint some poet to inherit his domain.
Poets and fools are of the same material.
One scorns advancement. One has nowhere to advance.
In both accounts, the gain is greater than the loss.
Both kinds are quick to anger, difficult to cross.
One speaks on impulse, one leaves everything to chance.
One is light-headed, but the other one is seen
wearing a pretty cap and bells, yellow and green.
One sings his rhymes, the other capers to his chimes.
Yet we are different in one important way.
Fortune has always favored fools, or so they say.
She’s seldom favored poets in the best of times.


(translated from the French by Richmond Lattimore)

____________________

—Medusa (May the new year open many wonderful doors for you!)





SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:

Rattlesnake Review: The latest issue (#20) is currently available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I'll mail you one. The last of contributors' copies has gone into the mail. Deadline for RR21 is February 15: send 3-5 poems, smallish art pieces and/or photos (no bio, no cover letter, no simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. E-mail attachments are preferred, but be sure to include all contact info, including snail address. Meanwhile, the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

Coming in January: Other than the ever-restless Medusa, the Snake will be snoozing during January; no releases or readings. But our October road trips inspired a new Rattlesnake publication, WTF, to be edited by frank andrick. This 30-page, chapbook-style (free) quarterly will primarily showcase the talents of readers at Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café, but anyone over 18 is welcome to submit. Deadline is Jan. 15 for a Feb. 19 premiere at Luna’s. Submission guidelines are the same as for the Snake, but please send three poems (each one page or less in length), photos, smallish art or prose pieces (500 words or less) to fandrickfabpub@hotmail.com (attachments preferred) or, if you’re snailing, to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. And be forewarned: this publication will be for adults only! so you must be over 18 years of age to submit.

Also available now (free): littlesnake broadside #46: Snake Secrets: Getting Your Poetry Published in Rattlesnake Press (and lots of other places, besides!): A compendium of ideas for brushing up on your submissions process so as to make editors everywhere more happy, thereby increasing the likelihood of getting your poetry published. Pick up a copy at TBC or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!

Coming February 11: A new rattlechap from Sacramento's Poet Laureate, Julia Connor (Oar); a littlesnake broadside from Josh Fernandez (In The End, It’s A Worthless Machine); and the premiere of our new Rattlesnake Reprints, featuring The Dimensions of the Morning by D.R. Wagner, which was first published by Black Rabbit Press in 1969. That’s February 11 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.


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.

Sweetness in the Heart

THE LEMON TREES
—Eugenio Montale

Listen: the laureled poets
stroll only among shrubs
with learned names: ligustrum, acanthus, box.
What I like are streets that end in grassy
ditches where boys snatch
a few famished eels from drying puddles:
paths that struggle along the banks,
then dip among the tufted canes,
into the orchards, among the lemon trees.

Better, if the gay palaver of the birds
is stilled, swallowed by the blue:
more clearly now, you hear the whisper
of genial branches in that air barely astir,
the sense of that smell
inseparable from earth,
that rains its restless sweetness in the heart.
Here, by some miracle, the war
of conflicted passions is stilled,
here even we the poor share the riches of the world—
the smell of the lemon trees.

See, in these silences when things
let themselves go and seem almost
to reveal their final secret,
we sometimes expect
to discover a flaw in Nature,
the world's dead point, the link that doesn't hold,
the thread that, disentangled, might at last lead us
to the center of a truth.
The eye rummages,
the mind pokes about, unifies, disjoins
in the fragrance that grows
as the day closes, languishing.
These are the silences where we see
in each departing human shade
some disturbed Divinity.

But the illusion dies, time returns us
to noisy cities where the sky is only
patches of blue, high up, between the cornices.
Rain wearies the ground; over the buildings
winter's tedium thickens.
Light grows niggardly, the soul bitter.
And, one day, through a gate ajar,
among the trees in a courtyard,
we see the yellows of the lemon trees;
and the heart's ice thaws,
and songs pelt
into the breast
and trumpets of gold pour forth
epiphanies of Light!


(translated from the Italian by William Arrowsmith)

__________________

—Medusa

Monkeyland

MONKEYLAND
—Sandor Weores (1913-1989)

Oh for far-off monkeyland,
ripe monkeybread on baobabs,
and the wind strums out monkeytunes
from monkeywindow monkeybars.

Monkeyheroes rise and fight
in monkeyfield and monkeysquare,
and monkeysanatoriums
have monkeypatients crying there.

Monkeygirl monkeytaught
masters monkeyalphabet,
evil monkey pounds his thrawn
feet in monkeyprison yet.

Monkeymill is nearly made,
miles of monkeymayonnaise,
winningly unwinnable
winning monkeymind wins praise.

Monkeyking on monkeypole
harangues the crowd in monkeytongue,
monkeyheaven comes to some,
monkeyhell for those undone.

Macaque, gorilla, chimpanzee,
baboon, orangutan, each beast
reads his monkeynewssheet at
the end of each twilight repast.

With monkeysupper memories
the monkeyouthouse rumbles, hums,
monkeyswaddies start to march,
right turn, left turn, shoulder arms—

monkeymilitary fright
reflected in each monkeyface,
with monkeygun in monkeyfist
the monkeys' world the world we face.


(translated from the Hungarian by Elwin Morgan)

_________________

Start the new year with some submissions:

•••January 5 is the deadline for the Spring 2009 issue of Convergence, an onliine journal of poetry and art that has been revived by some Sacramento poets. Send five poems (or less) or fiction (1000 words or less) to Cynthia Linville (clinville@csus.edu) with “Convergence” in the subject line. No simultaneous submissions, please. Photographers and artists should send up to six jpegs of your work (no larger than 4 megabytes each). HINT: work from a series or with a common theme has a greater chance of being accepted.

•••Modoc Forum’s Surprise Valley Poetry Prize: Deadline for entries is the 15th of each month. Entries received after the 15th of the month will be considered for the next month’s contest. You may enter each month, but there are no repeat winners from month to month. The winning poem and one honorable mention winner will be published each month in the Modoc Independent News Book Page (Poetry Now Department) and on www.modocforum.org. The 12 monthly finalists are eligible for the annual prize of $500 for first place, $300 for second and $150 for runner-up. Monthly judges are editors of Modoc Independent News newspaper; final judge for annual winner is Sacramento Poet Laureate Julia Connor. No previously published or award-winning poems accepted. Mail submissions to: Modoc Forum, P.O. Box 126, Cedarville, CA 96104. Please include a SASE if you would like your poetry returned to you, otherwise it will be recycled. We do not accept electronic submissions. Entry fee is $12 per maximum of three poems, one page each; check or money order only. Payable to Modoc Forum, P.O. Box 126, Cedarville, Ca 96104. (FYI: The Modoc Independent News is a monthly newspaper with a readership of 4,000 in northeastern California and northern Nevada.)

•••Our October road trips inspired a new Rattlesnake publication, WTF, to be edited by frank andrick. This 30-page, chapbook-style (free) quarterly will primarily showcase the talents of readers at Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café, but anyone over 18 is welcome to submit. Deadline is Jan. 15 for a Feb. 19 premiere at Luna’s. Submission guidelines are the same as for the Snake, but please send three poems (each one page or less in length), photos, smallish art or prose pieces (500 words or less) to fandrickfabpub@hotmail.com (attachments preferred) or, if you’re snailing, to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. And be forewarned: this publication will be for adults only! so you must be over 18 years of age to submit.

___________________

Thanks to Marie Ross and Don Anderson for the following poems of New Year musing, which were both responses to Seeds of the Week. (Marie's was Waiting, and Don's was Light.)


ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON
—Marie J. Ross, Stockton

We walked under a bright yellow moon,
hand in hand gazing at the romantic glow.
After a night of bowling we would stop for
a glass of beer, laughing as we critiqued our
performance.
Our dates were meaningful as respect grew
and we fell in love, kisses tender but urgent.
It was at McArthur park that your embrace
told of a need to join, but we held back, until
one night under the half moon you asked me
to marry you.
June 1, a day like no other, we felt like teenagers
floating on cloud nine in orbit of earth.
Sixteen years of love, joy, excitement; there were
days when rain fell on our parade in a cloud burst
of words loud like thunder, and nights making love
as desire forgot and forgave.
Then heartbreak knocked on my door: I in a waiting
room, the surgery to fix you taking hours and hours
as metallic machines rolled in ticking and clicking.
Now my darling you wait, wait for me to meet you on
the other side of the moon, as I await for eternity to set
me on the moon beside you.

__________________

THE CHRISTMAS OF HOLY LIGHTS
—Donald R. Anderson, Stockton

The time is right
for me to turn out the light
and in the Christmas lights bask,
warmly glowing against the cool background,
I huddle and stare from a distance.
A cherishing distance.
This Christmas is like many others,
and yet it is unique.
So many things time teaches us,
sadness mixed with bliss,
a bittersweet cocoa to our hot chocolate.
And I remember us,
in the good times,
from a distance,
your little tree you gifted,
your open heart,
and mine, too open to be safe,
no longer willing to rough our warm bodies together,
no longer willing to be what I have outgrown.
I do not long for the past,
but it has gotten me where I am,
and for the moment's sake of what was,
I cherish the good and the bad,
and I cherish, in like kindred respect,
that holy present... the present that I live in.
That light, warmly glowing, that I know
will warm me forever,
but that I appreciate more,
from this distance.
The distance.
The light.

_________________

THE BLACK HUNTSMAN
—Irving Layton

Before ever I knew men were hunting me
I knew delight as water in a glass in a pool;
The childish heart then
Was ears nose eyes twiceten fingers,
And the torpid slum street, in summer,
A cut vein of the sun
That shed goldmotes by the million
Against a boy's bare toe foot ankle knee.

Then when the old year fell out of the window
To break into snowflakes on the cold stones of City Hall
I discovered Tennyson in a secondhand bookstore;
He put his bugle for me to his bearded mouth,
And down his Aquitaine nose a diminutive King Arthur
Rode out of our grocery shop bowing to left and right,
Bearing my mother's sheitel with him;
And for a whole week after that
I called my cat Launcelot.

Now I look out for the evil retinue
Making their sortie out of a forest of gold—
Afterwards their dames shall weave my tzitzith
Into a tapestry,
Though for myself I had preferred
A death by water or sky.

_________________

Today's LittleNip:

On this dark cold morning
After the ice storm
A male pheasant
Steps precisely across the snow.

His red and gold,
The warmth and shine of him
In the white freeze,
Explosive!
A firecracker pheasant
Opens the new year.


—from "A Winter Notebook" by May Sarton

_________________

—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:

Rattlesnake Review: The latest issue (#20) is currently available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I'll mail you one. The last of contributors' copies has gone into the mail. Deadline for RR21 is February 15: send 3-5 poems, smallish art pieces and/or photos (no bio, no cover letter, no simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. E-mail attachments are preferred, but be sure to include all contact info, including snail address. Meanwhile, the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

NEW for December: A second chapbook from Danyen Powell (Blue Sky Flies Out); a free littlesnake broadside from Kevin Jones (Low-Rent Dojo), and a brand-new (free) issue of Rattlesnake Review (#20)! Stop by The Book Collector and pick up Christmas gifts such as Katy Brown's calendars and blank journals and all our other books—give the gift of poetry! We even have two books that are appropriate for kids: Poems in a Seashell by Kathy Kieth (a children's approach to writing poetry), and SpiralChap #1: The Heart of a Poet, poetry and art by Ashley Redfield and her brother when they were wee ones. While you're there, of course, you'll want to pick up a book or two for your own Christmas tree. And hey—TBC is even open on Sundays!

Also available (free): littlesnake broadside #46: Snake Secrets: Getting Your Poetry Published in Rattlesnake Press (and lots of other places, besides!): A compendium of ideas for brushing up on your submissions process so as to make editors everywhere more happy, thereby increasing the likelihood of getting your poetry published. Pick up a copy at TBC or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!

Coming in January: Other than the ever-restless Medusa, the Snake will be snoozing during January; no releases or readings. But our October road trips inspired a new Rattlesnake publication, WTF, to be edited by frank andrick. This 30-page, chapbook-style (free) quarterly will primarily showcase the talents of readers at Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café, but anyone over 18 is welcome to submit. Deadline is Jan. 15 for a Feb. 19 premiere at Luna’s. Submission guidelines are the same as for the Snake, but please send three poems (each one page or less in length), photos, smallish art or prose pieces (500 words or less) to fandrickfabpub@hotmail.com (attachments preferred) or, if you’re snailing, to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. And be forewarned: this publication will be for adults only! so you must be over 18 years of age to submit.

Coming February 11: A new rattlechap from Sacramento's Poet Laureate, Julia Connor (Oar); a littlesnake broadside from Josh Fernandez (In The End, It’s A Worthless Machine); and the premiere of our new Rattlesnake Reprints, featuring The Dimensions of the Morning by D.R. Wagner, which was first published by Black Rabbit Press in 1969. That’s February 11 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.


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.

Mornings After

AN AMERICAN TRADITION
—Joyce Carol Oates

Returning gifts!

At the K-Mart in Marietta, Georgia,
the morning after Christmas morning,
there they wait, a small crowd,
waiting for the doors to open at ten.
Some carry bulky cardboard boxes: Mixmasters,
electric football games, chenille bedspreads.
Others grip paper bags into which gifts have been stuffed,
price tags still attached.

Excitement as ten o'clock nears!
By now the outer doors are opened;
they advance into the foyer, happily,
where vending machines offer
rubber lizards, 5-Minit Photos, and popcorn
kept fresh by yellow lights.
They wait.

But someone is not patient, someone is muttering—
not, it is a couple—
a woman in a fur-lined parka, her husband in his shirtsleeves—
You think you're so superior—You want to make me crawl—
Suddenly she is crying.
Suddenly she is elbowing her way back out, out
of the jammed-in pack, suddenly her face is contorted,
she is one of them, but a stranger.
What rage, what bitterness!—
this woman sensing a gift
she cannot return.

__________________

Coming Monday:

•••Monday (12/29), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Jeanne Wagner and Indigo Moor at Time-Tested Books, 1114 21st St., Sacramento. Jeanne Wagner is the 1998 winner of the poetry fellowship competition sponsored by Writers at Work in Park City, UT. The $1,500 first place award includes publication in Quarterly West, a featured reading at the conference, and tuition for the 1998 writers' conference. She was born in 1943 and did graduate work at San Francisco State. Indigo Moor is the author of Taproot (Main Street Rag Press, 2006). He is a 2003 recipient of Cave Canem’s Writing fellowship, former vice president of the Sacramento Poetry Center, and editor for the Tule Review. He is the winner of the 2005 Vesle Fenstermaker Poetry Prize for Emerging Writers. Other honors include: finalist finishes for the T.S. Eliot Prize, Crab Orchard First Book Prize, Saturnalia First Book Award, Naomi Long Madgett Book Award, and WordWorks Prize. He has received scholarships to the Summer Literary Series in St. Petersburg Russia, the 2006 Idyllwild Summer Poetry Program, the Indiana University Writer’s Conference, and the Napa Valley Writer’s Conference. His poetry and short stories have appeared in the Xavier Review, LA Review, Mochila Review, Boston University’s The Comment, the Pushcart Prize-nominated Out of the Blue Artists Unite, Poetry Now, Cave Canem Anthologies VIII and IX, The Ringing Ear, the NCPS 2006 Anthology, and Gathering Ground. Indigo is a graduate member of the Artist's Residency Institute for Teaching Artists. Collaborative efforts include readings for the Sacramento Ballet and Artists Embassy Intl. Dancing Poetry Festival. Current projects include Ethos and the Dreamwheel (Poetry), Hymns for the Damned (Novel), and Live at the Excelsior (Stage Play).

Coming to SPC January 5: James Lee Jobe and Monica Storrs

__________________

YEAR'S END
—Richard Wilbur

Now winter downs the dying of the year,
And night is all a settlement of snow;
From the soft street the rooms of houses show
A gathered light, a shapen atmosphere,
Like frozen-over lakes whose ice is thin
And still allows some stirring down within.

I've known the wind by water banks to shake
The late leaves down, which frozen where they fell
And held in ice as dancers in a spell
Fluttered all winter long into a lake;
Graved on the dark in gestures of descent,
They seemed their own most perfect monument.

There was perfection in the death of ferns
Which laid their fragile cheeks against the stone
A million years. Great mammoths overthrown
Composedly have made their long sojourns,
Like palaces of patience, in the gray
And changeless lands of ice. And at Pompeii

The little dog lay curled and did not rise
But slept the deeper as the ashes rose
And found the people incomplete, and froze
The random hands, the loose unready eyes
Of men expecting yet another sun
To do the shapely thing they had not done.

These sudden ends of time must give us pause.
We fray into the future, rarely wrought
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
More time, more time. Barrages of applause
Come muffled from a buried radio.
The New-year bells are wrangling with the snow.


_________________

Today's LittleNip:

PRANCER
—Michael Cluff, Highlands

I am only this way
because I have a bladder problem
and flying in the cold
Arctic air
even once a year
does not help it
at all

Excuse me
but I must go
now.

_________________

—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:

Rattlesnake Review: The latest issue (#20) is currently available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I'll mail you one. The last of contributors' copies has gone into the mail. Deadline for RR21 is February 15: send 3-5 poems, smallish art pieces and/or photos (no bio, no cover letter, no simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. E-mail attachments are preferred, but be sure to include all contact info, including snail address. Meanwhile, the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

NEW for December: A second chapbook from Danyen Powell (Blue Sky Flies Out); a free littlesnake broadside from Kevin Jones (Low-Rent Dojo), and a brand-new (free) issue of Rattlesnake Review (#20)! Stop by The Book Collector and pick up Christmas gifts such as Katy Brown's calendars and blank journals and all our other books—give the gift of poetry! We even have two books that are appropriate for kids: Poems in a Seashell by Kathy Kieth (a children's approach to writing poetry), and SpiralChap #1: The Heart of a Poet, poetry and art by Ashley Redfield and her brother when they were wee ones. While you're there, of course, you'll want to pick up a book or two for your own Christmas tree. And hey—TBC is even open on Sundays!

Also available (free): littlesnake broadside #46: Snake Secrets: Getting Your Poetry Published in Rattlesnake Press (and lots of other places, besides!): A compendium of ideas for brushing up on your submissions process so as to make editors everywhere more happy, thereby increasing the likelihood of getting your poetry published. Pick up a copy at TBC or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!

Coming in January: Other than the ever-restless Medusa, the Snake will be snoozing during January; no releases or readings. But our October road trips inspired a new Rattlesnake publication, WTF, to be edited by frank andrick. This 30-page, chapbook-style (free) quarterly will primarily showcase the talents of readers at Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café, but anyone over 18 is welcome to submit. Deadline is Jan. 15 for a Feb. 19 premiere at Luna’s. Submission guidelines are the same as for the Snake, but please send three poems (each one page or less in length), photos, smallish art or prose pieces (500 words or less) to fandrickfabpub@hotmail.com (attachments preferred) or, if you’re snailing, to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. And be forewarned: this publication will be for adults only! so you must be over 18 years of age to submit.

Coming February 11: A new rattlechap from Sacramento's Poet Laureate, Julia Connor (Oar); a littlesnake broadside from Josh Fernandez (In The End, It’s A Worthless Machine); and the premiere of our new Rattlesnake Reprints, featuring The Dimensions of the Morning by D.R. Wagner, which was first published by Black Rabbit Press in 1969. That’s February 11 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.


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.

A Man For All Weather

Out the Kieths' back door
Photo by Sam the Snake Man

THE SAME COLD
—Steven Dunn

In Minnesota the serious cold arrived
like no cold I'd previously experienced,
an in-your-face honesty to it, a clarity
that always took me by surprise.
On blizzardy nights with wires down
or in the dead-battery dawn
the cold made good neighbors of us all,
made us moral because we might need
something moral in return, no hitchhiker
left on the road, not even some frozen
strange-looking stranger turned away
from your door. After a spell of it,
I remember, zero would feel warm—
people out for walks, jackets open,
ice fishermen in the glory
of their shacks moved to Nordic song.
The cold took over our lives,
lived in every conversation, as compelling
as local dirt or local sport.
If bitten by it, stranded somewhere,
a person would want
to lie right down in it and sleep.
Come February, some of us needed
to scream, hurt ourselves, divorce.
Once, on Route 23, thirty below,
my Maverick seized up, and a man
with a blanket and a candy bar, a man
for all weather, stopped and drove me home.
It was no big thing to him, the savior.
Just two men, he said, in the same cold.

__________________

—Medusa (wishing all of you warm nights and snow-plowable days from kk, Sam, and NoTail)

Curling Up By The Fire

FIRESIDE REVISITED
—Marie J. Ross and Roger E. Naylor, Stockton

Fire roaring on Winter’s Eve
The fireplace crackles in scent of pine.
Before dancing flames, hold a picture...
With hands in warm gloves they cling,
One white lace, other black suede
Holding a photo of their wedding day.

Fire roaring on Winter’s Eve
The Yule tide tree gleams and sparkles
Hung with ornaments of their wedding.
A reflection of love in their eyes,
Bright flickers on their pupils dancing—
Like the snow falling on joyous children.

Fire roaring on Winter’s Eve
Popcorn popping, marshmallows toasting,
Bubbly flowing, cozy couch cuddling.
The picture slipping from hand
Eyes twinkling with lip’s delight
The embers smolder in the fireplace hearth.

___________________

Thanks to Marie Ross and Roger Naylor for this collaborative poem, plus two poems from Tom Goff (one inspired by Katy Brown's photo of an angel on last Saturday's post), and responses from Taylor Graham and Mitz Sackman to our Seed of the Week: Light. Well, heck, Tom's second poem is full of light, too—and so is Marie and Roger's! Santa is being kind to us, indeed...


THE ALABASTER ANGEL
(based on a photo by Katy Brown)
—Tom Goff, Carmichael

The alabaster angel’s a touch concerned,
ambivalently gazing from her perch,
the downward-canted window ledge in church.
Whether her stare is out- or downward, learned
by no onlooker yet; she seems immersed
in gazes, for the universe is her niche,
and orchestras of burning-glasses search
her every inch for gestures, looks, rehearsed
or scant of praise. Yet what is insincere
about her visage? She retorts the cosmic
scrutiny with translucent watchfulness.
Somehow she’s kept her upper wing-curves and face
clean of the dinge that stains flight-feathers and tunic.
Her gaze appears unhesitant, calm and sere:

yet for all the stained-glass’s lights and charms,
she cradles an undisclosed something in soft dark arms.

________________

LOVETIME
—Tom Goff

First you were brilliant as the silken dawn
shot with colors peculiar to the silk’s
infolds rinsed in the iridescent milk
of sheer first light. Then, bright as clear green lawn,

raincloud-freshened with curtain-softly-drawn-
back-from-the-proscenium clear flicks
and sweeps of noon-hand color, Northern Flickers
darting across with underwings of fawn

and brown. And now you are the clouds themselves,
laden with blue-gray rain yet capable
of radiance as their sails drink sun and fill.

Soon, sunset amplifications of you delve
the twilit violet-and-dove. Are you a day?
A lifespan? A season? Lovetime, who can say?

__________________

LIGHT COMES
—Mitz Sackman, Murphys

Fresh
Born comes
Year’s dark night
Stars, snow, moon glow
Year’s turning, light comes
New hope grows with the light
New life grows with day’s hope
Christmas, solstice marks the new day
Light grows strong brings joy in renewed life
Possibilities abound and fill us

__________________

BY CANDLELIGHT
—Taylor Graham, Placerville

It almost feels like camping out here.
We’re still learning the tricks
of light switch and unfamiliar wood stove.
I unpack candles, old friends’ gifts
scented with blessings.
No candlesticks. I strike a match,
melt a dab of wax, drip it
on the newly-opened lid
of pinto beans; affix a candle
on the silver disk.
Now, to the iron pot
add onion, garlic and chipotle.
Stir it up and let it simmer.
Serve up chili beans in mismatched
bowls. What’s a home-
cooked meal without candlelight?





Today's LittleNip:

Tinsel is really snakes' mirrors.

—Steven Wright

__________________

—Medusa

Let There Be Light

In the shadow of the mountains
the firewood burns, brightening
my cold little grass hut.

—Ryokan

RED HOOK: DECEMBER
—George Oppen

We had not expected it, the whole street
Lit with the red, blue, green
And yellow of the Christmas lights
In the windows shining and blinking
Into distance down the cross streets.
The children are almost awed in the street
Putting out the trash paper
In the winking light. A man works
Patiently in his overcoat
With the little bulbs
Because the window is open
In December. The bells ring,

Ring electronically the New Year
Among the roofs
And one can be at peace
In this city on a shore
For the moment now
With wealth, the shining wealth.

__________________

This is the season of lights, both metaphorically and actually—even though (and maybe because) we've just passed through the shortest, and therefore darkest, day of the year. For our Seed of the Week, let there be light. Write about light: Christmas lights, the solstice, the way the sun slants on your old dog, church candles, Times Square on New Year's, deer in the headlights, starlight, nightlights in the baby's room, moths to the porchlight, firelight, fireflies, lighthouses. Or go for the metaphor: lighten your load, achieving enlightenment, bright idea, let there be... Send me your light poems! No deadline on Seeds of the Week. George Oppen got us started; here are some more from Hafiz, translated from the Farsi (Persian) by Daniel Ladinsky:

IT FELT LOVE
—Hafiz

How
Did the rose
Ever open its heart

And give to this world
All its
Beauty?

It felt the encouragement of light
Against its Being.

Otherwise,
We all remain

Too

Frightened.

_________________

THE VINTAGE MAN
—Hafiz

The
Difference
Between a good artist
And a great one

Is:

The novice
Will often lay down his tool
Or brush

Then pick up an invisible club
On the mind's table

And helplessly smash the easels and
Jade.

Whereas the vintage man
No longer hurts himself or anyone

And keeps on
Sculpting

Light.

_______________

THAT LAMP THAT NEEDS NO OIL
—Hafiz

I have made the journey into Nothing.
I have lit that lamp that
Needs no oil.

I have cried great streams
Of emerald crystals
On my scarred knees, begging love

To never again let me hear from
Any world

The sound of my own name,
Even from the voice of divine thought

Or see that pen you gave me, God,
In the sun's or sky's skillful hand
Writing
Anything other than the word—
One.

I have made the journey into Nothing.
I have become that flame that need
No fuel.

Beloved,
Now what need is there to ever
Call for Hafiz?

For if you did,
I would just step out
of You.

________________

Today's LittleNip:

Hafiz encourages all art
For at its height it brings Light near
To us.

—Hafiz

___________________



—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:

Rattlesnake Review: The latest issue (#20) is currently available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I'll mail you one. The last of contributors' copies will go into the mail this week. Deadline for RR21 is February 15: send 3-5 poems, smallish art pieces and/or photos (no bio, no cover letter, no simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. E-mail attachments are preferred, but be sure to include all contact info, including snail address. Meanwhile, the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

NEW for December: A second chapbook from Danyen Powell (Blue Sky Flies Out); a free littlesnake broadside from Kevin Jones (Low-Rent Dojo), and a brand-new (free) issue of Rattlesnake Review (#20)! Stop by The Book Collector and pick up Christmas gifts such as Katy Brown's calendars and blank journals and all our other books—give the gift of poetry! We even have two books that are appropriate for kids: Poems in a Seashell by Kathy Kieth (a children's approach to writing poetry), and SpiralChap #1: The Heart of a Poet, poetry and art by Ashley Redfield and her brother when they were wee ones. While you're there, of course, you'll want to pick up a book or two for your own Christmas tree. And hey—TBC is even open on Sundays!

Also available (free): littlesnake broadside #46: Snake Secrets: Getting Your Poetry Published in Rattlesnake Press (and lots of other places, besides!): A compendium of ideas for brushing up on your submissions process so as to make editors everywhere more happy, thereby increasing the likelihood of getting your poetry published. Pick up a copy at TBC or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!

Coming in January: Other than the ever-restless Medusa, the Snake will be snoozing during January; no releases or readings. But our October road trips inspired a new Rattlesnake publication, WTF, to be edited by frank andrick. This 30-page, chapbook-style (free) quarterly will primarily showcase the talents of readers at Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café, but anyone over 18 is welcome to submit. Deadline is Jan. 15 for a Feb. 19 premiere at Luna’s. Submission guidelines are the same as for the Snake, but please send three poems (each one page or less in length), photos, smallish art or prose pieces (500 words or less) to fandrickfabpub@hotmail.com (attachments preferred) or, if you’re snailing, to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. And be forewarned: this publication will be for adults only! so you must be over 18 years of age to submit.

Coming February 11: A new rattlechap from Sacramento's Poet Laureate, Julia Connor (Oar); a littlesnake broadside from Josh Fernandez (In The End, It’s A Worthless Machine); and the premiere of our new Rattlesnake Reprints, featuring The Dimensions of the Morning by D.R. Wagner, which was first published by Black Rabbit Press in 1969. That’s February 11 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.


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.