At The Edge Of The World

Pt. Bonita, San Francisco Bay

I’D LIKE TO BE A LIGHTHOUSE
—Rachel Lyman Field

I'd like to be a lighthouse
All scrubbed and painted white.
I'd like to be a lighthouse
And stay awake all night
To keep my eye on everything
That sails my patch of sea;
I'd like to be a lighthouse
With the ships all watching me.

__________________

About the above poem, Margaret Ellis Hill writes: I have always loved this small poem that says so much. Children's poetry? Oh yes, and there are many besides this one I taught to my own kids and grandkids. When you asked for 'lighthouse' poems, Kathy, how could this one not come to my mind? I know it by heart. I found it many years ago in an old Childcraft Series and never forgot it. I even suggested this one several years ago to a teacher attending a forum about building self confidence in children.

Thanks, Peggy! What a charmer this is!

We're still talking about lighthouses. Today's photo is of Pt. Bonita (see the Golden Gate Bridge?) in honor of lighthouses and in honor of Ethel Mays of San Francisco, who sends us these poems. Thanks, Ethel!


SUNRISE
—Ethel Mays

Dawn rouges morn
with blush of day
and night sheds
wishing stars
into oceans
full of promise
for the morrow

__________________

GARDENER
—Ethel Mays

Arthritic murmurs dissipate
into knees’ distant memories

When gnarled hands
hold aloft

Prized root bulbs
born of stubborn gardener's faith

__________________

WILD IRIS
—Ethel Mays

Purple ripples
in a meadow

Signal ground
awaiting tread
of bovine feet

Soon to trample
verdant carpet
into muddy brown

__________________

Another Canary!

Gail Entrekin writes: The second edition of Canary has been posted at www.hippocketpress.com/canary.cfm. I think it looks great, and we have some beautiful and thought-provoking work again this issue. I hope you'll take a minute to read it and pass it on to others, especially to people who perhaps have not yet been awakened to the critical nature of the environmental crisis. Thanks very much for helping.

__________________

THIS UNIMPORTANT MORNING
—Lawrence Durrell

This unimportant morning
Something goes singing where
The capes turn over on their sides
And the warm Adriatic rides
Her blue and sun washing
At the edge of the world and its brilliant cliffs.

Day rings in the higer airs
Pure with cicadas, and slowing
Like a pulse to smoke from farms,
Extinguished in the exhausted earth,
Unclenching like a fist and going.

Trees fume, cool, pour—and overflowing
Unstretch the feathers of birds and shake
Carpets from windows, brush with dew
The up-and-doing: and young lovers now
Their little resurrections make.

And now lightly to kiss all whom sleep
Stitched up—and wake, my darling, wake.
The impatient Boatman has been waiting
Under the house, his long oars folded up
Like wings in waiting on the darkling lake.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

—Mark Twain

__________________

—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. 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.

Then, in February: On Weds., February 11, Rattlesnake Press will be releasing 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.

And on February 19, the premiere of our new, free Poetry Unplugged quarterly, WTF, edited by frank andrick, will be celebrated at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, 8 PM. (For those of you just tuning in, Poetry Unplugged is the long-running reading series at Luna's Cafe.)

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 The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!


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, or any other day!): 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.

We Must Live

LIGHT READING
—Donald R. Anderson, Stockton

He would do a little light reading in his cubby,
sitting half lotus, in a deep, rich brown cushy lounger.

The waves would crash in the distance, and the clock would tick,
lamp rattling in place, little shelves and sleeves tucking away
all the little notes and love letters, yellowed and folded in
the olden days. His glasses lean in towards the letters,
riddling out their constituents in a peaceful room walled with
bookshelves, a parlor in the lighthouse.

Like clockwork he would climb the cylinder, stairs around and round,
damp with the ocean and scent of salt, mustard seed, oil.
At the top, still safely below the light, he'd maintain the flaring light.
And from the clouds, and the wind, came the seagulls, mist, and the vessels
using his landmark in a celestial dance across the waves till infinity.

__________________

LIGHTHOUSE MENAGERIE
—Marie J. Ross, Stockton

Little wooden lighthouses:
a menagerie of keepsakes
that please my eyes.

I gaze at them,
imagine them positioned with
ocean waves thrashing against
boulders.

I see fisherman caught in tides, rocking
heavy on the swell, “man overboard”,
little wooden lighthouse, the savior beam.

On my coffee table are nautical logs, books
about lighthouses and their commitment to cast
illumination across the ocean,

to guide ships through a rash of storms that
batter and tilt upward and downward against
the tidal surge.

And from my menagerie of lighthouses, each splinter
of wood, each decorative hue is a painting of sky and
water—their moving canvas, my eyes positioned on them.

__________________

This weekend in NorCal poetry:

•••Sat. (1/31), 7 PM: The Show Poetry Series, 2863 35th St., Sacramento (35th and Broadway). $5.00. Info: (916) 208-POET.

•••Mon. (2/2), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Richard “Bo” Lopez, Crawdad Nelson, and Miles Miniaci, with Litany (Miles Miniaci, Chéne Watson, and Bob Wilson) at HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. Richard Lopez, in addition to reading at such local venues as SPC and the Book Collector, has been published in such journals as Shampoo and Galatea Resurrects, and is the author or co-author of several collections of poetry, including Parts of the Journal: Night, Hallucinating California, and his latest, Super 8.

Crawdad Nelson is a meat-eating, fish-catching, homerun-hitting, ham-and-egger from the north edge of the sticks. Not only that, he grows his own corn, eats his own spinach, writes his own dialogue and answers his own phone. He is a student of history and a tutor of English. He is a recent winner of the Reynolds Scholarship from Phi Theta Kappa, the International Honor Society of two-year colleges. His work has appeared in the Anderson Valley Advertiser, New Settler Interview, Sacramento News & Review and other places in print and online.

Miles Miniaci received his B.A. from San Francisco State and his M.F.A. from the University of Southern California. His poetry and fiction have appeared in The American River Literary Review, Poetry Now, Catchphrase Collection, and Harpoon, among others, and he has been a featured reader at such venues as Luna’s, H. Q. Center for the Arts, Café Montreal, Amnesia (S.F.), and M Bar (L.A.). His prose (mostly humor and music pieces) has been seen—or heard—in ‘zines, e-‘zines, and podcasts, including Morbid Curiosity, Short Bus, Retrocrush, and The Backseat Kiss. He also publishes the occasional scholarly article for journals such as American Quarterly (California American Studies Association) and ATHE News (The Association for Theatre in Higher Education). In addition to writing, Miles has made his living, at various times, as a professional actor, a high school and college instructor, and an arts administrator. He makes his home in Sacramento with his partner Beth and his children Gabriel and Maya, and considers himself incredibly fortunate.

Litany is a non-traditional power trio consisting of three multi-instrumentalists bent on defying genres and expectations. Bob Wilson, Miles Miniaci, and Chéne Watson are veterans of numerous Sacramento-area bands, playing a range of styles from folk to power pop to progressive rock. Between the three of them, they sing and play not only the standard guitar, bass, drums, and keyboards, but also less familiar instruments including dulcimer, mandolin, harp, marimba, and many others. The band has been performing regionally for the past five years, appearing at venues such as Cesar Chavez Park, Southside Park, Capital Garage, The Distillery, Luna’s, The Space, and various Second Saturday galleries. They have also produced a self-released demo and appeared on KVMR and nationwide on BlogTalkRadio.com.

Coming Up at SPC and Elsewhere:

•••Tues. (2/3), 12 noon at Sacramento City College in A-6 (the Little Theater): Gary Short
•••Monday (2/9), 7:30 PM: Hannah Stein and Katherine Hastings

__________________

OVER
—Mitz Sackman, Murphys

Did
You know
Me ever?
Who did you see
When you looked here?
What did you really want?
What did I know about love then?
What have we learned about love now?
For me, to be loved is to be known.
I don’t know what the answer is for you.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

WHATEVER HAPPENED
—Adam Zagajewski

Whatever happened had already happened.
Four tons of death lie on the grass
and dry tears endure among the herbarium's leaves.
Whatever happened will stay with us
and with us will grow and diminish.

But we must live,
the rusting chestnut tells us.
We must live,
the locust sings.
We must live,
the hangman whispers.


(translated from the Polish by Clare Cavanagh)

__________________

—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. 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.

Then, in February: On Weds., February 11, Rattlesnake Press will be releasing 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.

And on February 19, the premiere of our new, free Poetry Unplugged quarterly, WTF, edited by frank andrick, will be celebrated at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, 8 PM. (For those of you just tuning in, Poetry Unplugged is the long-running reading series at Luna's Cafe.)

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 The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!


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, or any other day!): 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 Snake is Sunning Itself

Photo by Claire J. Baker, Pinole

BEAST
—Patricia Hickerson, Davis

In the jungle of my dream
I greet the dead
there's Mom coming through the trees
in her sable coat
diamond-studded gown
we take a limo to the arena
applaud the tap-dancing monkeys
they hold out their caps
for tips, Mom turns away

Mom loved money
she could smell it a mile away
(her perfume)
Dad worked hard
wore himself out
swinging from branch to branch
to satisfy her taste
for gold-plated bananas

Mine is a long line
of other depraved ruffians:
one who traded in slaves
one who made his fortune with a brothel
one who played with his inheritance
gambled it away

What spiraled down to me
along this loop of apes?
I don't know
only that I am a beast
loving all things wild
creatures who bare their teeth and lunge
lions and tigers hungry wolves
howling coyotes crazed dogs
uncoiled cobras
men from street or swamp
men made vicious through power
men who muscle their way
to love and possession
their sweat my preferred fragrance...

__________________

Thanks to Pat Hickerson for the riff on avarice (still working those sins, she is). Watch for a littlesnake broadside called At Grail Castle Hotel from her, coming in March.


B.L.'s Drive-Bys: A Mini-Review from B.L. Kennedy:

THE DRACULA DOSSIER
by James Reese
William Morrow
350pp, hardcover, $24.95
ISBN 978-0-06-123354-8

The Dracula Dossier is one fine read. Having never encountered the work of its author, James Reese, I was somewhat surprised. Reese takes his readers on a remarkable journey through 19th Century London as our hero, none other then Bram Stoker, the famed author of Dracula, with the help of friends like Sir Thomas Henry Hall Caine, Walt Whitman, and Oscar Wilde, finds himself on the trail of Jack the Ripper. This is a fun book and a very entertaining read. If you have the time or interest in either Bram Stoker or Jack the Ripper and the classic novel, Dracula, I’d say invest the cash and enjoy this book.

—B.L. Kennedy, Reviewer-in-Residence

__________________

DIFFERENT HOURS
—Stephen Dunn

As the small plane descended through
the it's-all-over-now Sturm und Drang
I closed my eyes and saw myself
in waves of lucidity, a vanisher
in a long process of vanishing,
of solitary character, truant heart.
When we landed, I flipped down
my daily mask, resumed my normal
dreamy life of uncommitted crimes.
I held nothing against me anymore.
And now, next day, I wake before
the sound of traffic, amazed
that the paper has been delivered,
that the world is up and working.
A dazed rabbit sits in the dewy grass.
The clematis has no aspirations
as it climbs its trestle.
I pour myself orange juice, Homestyle.
I say the hell with low-fat cream cheese,
and slather the good stuff on my bagel.
The newspaper seems to be thinking
my thoughts: No Hope for Lost Men.
Link Between Laughter and Health.
It says scientists now know the neutrino
has mass. "The most ghostly particle
in the universe," one of them called it.
No doubt other scientists are jealous
who asked the right questions
too late, some small failure of intuition
leading them astray.
No doubt, too, at this very moment
a snake is sunning itself in Calcutta.
And somewhere a philosopher is erasing
"time's empty passing" because he's seen
a woman in a ravishing dress.
In a different hour he'll put it back.

__________________

AFTER
—Stephen Dunn

Jack and Jill at home together after their fall,
the bucket spilled, her knees badly scraped,
and Jack with not even an aspirin for what's broken.
We can see the arduous evenings ahead of them.
And the need now to pay a boy to fetch the water.
Our mistake was trying to do something together,
Jill sighs. Jack says, If you'd have let go for once
you wouldn't have come tumbling after.
He's in a wheelchair, but she's still an item—
for the rest of their existence confined
to a little, rhyming story. We tell it to our children,
who laugh, already accustomed to disaster.
We'd like to teach them the secrets
of knowing how to go too far,
but Jack is banging with his soup spoon,
Jill is pulling out her hair. Out of decency
we turn away, as if it were possible to escape
the drift of our lives, the fundamental business
of making do with what's been left us.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

There is only one trait that marks the writer. He is always watching. It's a kind of trick of the mind and he is born with it.

—Morley Callaghan

__________________

—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. 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.

Then, in February: On Weds., February 11, Rattlesnake Press will be releasing 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.

And on February 19, the premiere of our new, free Poetry Unplugged quarterly, WTF, edited by frank andrick, will be celebrated at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, 8 PM. (For those of you just tuning in, Poetry Unplugged is the long-running reading series at Luna's Cafe.)

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 The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!


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, or any other day!): 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.

Sentinel

STORMY
—Taylor Graham, Placerville

It’s no weather for going to the lighthouse.
Imagine its brilliant eye.
This house is fogged in, every room. It’s cold.
Then light a fire in the stove.
It’s about to storm to shake the crockery off the shelf.
Think how a lighthouse rides the waves.
We have no potatoes for supper, only stones.
They’ll anchor us like the lighthouse rock.
How many people have drowned?
How your small fire dreams of becoming
lighthouse.

________________

Thanks to Taylor Graham for her response to our Seed of the Week: The Lighthouse. Tom Goff and Kevin Jones have also riffed to the theme, and both of them had their eye on the lighthousekeeper's daughter. Kevin, in fact, went for the son, the widow—the whole family, in fact. Tom's first poem previously appeared on James Lee Jobe's blog, which is now known as "Pulverized Diamonds". Check out Rattlechapper James Lee's blog by clinking on the "James Lee Jobe" link at the right of this column.

Watch for a new littlesnake broadside by Taylor Graham, by the way, coming in April, and a new rattlechap from Tom Goff, coming in May, and also watch for their columns in Rattlesnake Review #21, coming in mid-March (deadline is February 15). And next time you're in The Book Collector, pick up Kevin Jones' broadside, Low-Rent Dojo, or ask me and I'll send you one. Littlesnake broadsides are free!

_________________

THE LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER'S DAUGHTER
c. 1927
—Tom Goff, Carmichael

Come sit with me. We have so little visit;
I ache to know what’s going on out there.
I’ll whisper to you, and you must whisper back;
these thick rock walls won’t echo our words, won’t swat
thoughts back at us, but people might. My father,
poor stooped and aching man, climbs miles of stairs,
and, if he has a word to say, it stings;
but how can he not give back with equal spear
the point that pierces him, life’s harpoon cast?
How thick are they? So thick, that when it storms,
the grey-black rage, the crashing violent white,
are magic-lantern shows with not one shadow,
soundless insane upheavals of the world.
The storm’s great battering becomes an external
cinema, a projection of what I
feel and suffer inwardly, heart ramming
apoplexy into my inner skin,
suffusing it with blood unbled, which pools
and crazes…but you fear for me; don’t, dear…
it’s just that you have some outlet. We have parlors:
parlor kitchens, parlor bedrooms, parlor parlors,
everything, everyone shrunk and battened down,
ship-sized. When my father or mother weaken,
I lug great basins of water, kerosene vessels,
coaloil for the wheels under the elegant lantern:
its tracks I oil, its lens I clean, the beam
itself I rarely see. What do you think?
I work to oil the very wheels of light:
is that not a line for a lighthouse keeper’s poem?
We have no sailor swagger, yet we’re sailors
in a different ocean; never launch out from,
nor do we return to, harbor beacon, haven.
Never quite sense the effect of our flung light,
tossed like a length of rope when men might drown.
I do apologize; please, please, do have
more teacake, do be good enough to pour
your own cup, my hand shakes too much to help…
Tell all about your life. Have you a beau?
But you’re a college student…you will soon
completely overtake me. I’m needed here,
not to learn, to add to small Greek and Latin,
but needed for our little flock of goats,
for gardening our patch of vegetables,
for events just like the day when—soundlessly
again—I saw the storm dash a great ship
on rock; it spilled the human cargo bleeding,
soaked, sputtering, and desperate to pull
torn lives with torn hands silently from the rocks.
Voiceless, they looked like dollhouse replicas,
puppet-castaways, puppet-victims, blood-spots
daubing the tiny porcelain skins paint-red.
I looked away: Mother, calling for rags
to rip and then to furl up into bandages.
I looked again—and, lit from behind by sun
that was itself a lighthouse-light, through turmoil,
an enormous wave reared up into ghastly profile:
the Brother Jonathan, wrecked in ’65.
I looked a third time: like a daguerreotype
fixed in the thick, slow-dripping window glass,
poised against the real and the ghostly
sea-wracks both, was my pane-face aghast.
Unable to stay or go, corpse-frozen, pallid,
trapped in the glass, the spectacle like flame
with death behind that flame; both eyebrows lifted,
my irises, pupils, islands in twin white seas,
wanting to beat my way out of this rock-hold,
just as did, last Thursday, a common cormorant,
blown in at the door, a sunny day, but strong gusts;
he beat and he beat against the walls, his wing-force
diminishing, but groped his way out of our tower.
I hope he did not leave damaged, the poor creature…
I’ve tortured you with the prattle of the pent-up;
no, no, don’t open that door yet, don’t go off…
dear, take my hand, come over with me this way,
I’ll show you the entire chambered nautilus;
the stairs wind up or down exactly like one;
the walls shut one from heaven, without a dome,
don’t you think. Just look at my father’s cunning:
given scant space, he built and hinged this door
so that it gives onto the long stairway down
just as it closes the passage leading up…

__________________

LIGHTHOUSE
(watercolor by Nora Laila Staklis)
—Tom Goff

A binary painting, that’s your watercolor
of the lighthouse on Battery Point in Crescent City.
Slant doubles, oppositions,

rake and stabilize the natural scene: great jutting
granite headlands, one foreground,
one midground, twin sentinels to the last

high sweep of ground, a reclining nude
amid whose full soft curves is set
the lighthouse itself—two micro-cypresses

the verticals that counterpoise the flat
red roof and wall horizontals. A rubicund note,
a dark iron-smaragdine note: more doubled motifs.

The fourth-order Fresnel lantern’s
a distant inexistent supposition, so far afar
in god’s-eye view do we see it; yet

we need the red-roofed bulwark, as proclaims
one forefront splotch of paprika-colored
rock lichen—again, two pans in the scale.

Those red/green lighthouse-and-cypress idiographs:
equivalenced in the left (front) corner’s black-pebbled
hint of shingle. Binary, did I say?

Seen science-eyed, the mists and sprays
through which we perceive a blue-and-slate
civil war of stone and sky

seem to fling themselves in subtler
numbers, Fibonacci droplets. Through this commotion,
nevertheless, and through zigzag landmass,

bludgeons the vast gray-green black-tipped
bluster of the ocean, beating the stubborn bluffs
in waves of two by two by two.

__________________

LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER’S SON
—Kevin Jones, Fair Oaks

Voted
Most likely
To join
The Foreign
Legion

__________________

LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER’S DAUGHTER
—Kevin Jones

Dates
Always
Careful
To have
Her home
Before
The fog
Sets in

__________________

MAIN QUALIFICATIONS TO BE
A LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER
—Kevin Jones

—Must
Look good
In blue cap
—Supply
Own shiny
Brass
Spyglass
—Have
Impressive
Muttonchop
Sideburns

_________________

LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER’S FAMILY
AT THE LABYRINTH
—Kevin Jones

Walking,
Walking,
Walking
In
Straight
Lines

_________________

LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER
PARLOR GAME
—Kevin Jones

Let’s hear
Your favorite
Foghorn!

__________________

THE LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER’S WIDOW:
A REVISIONIST VIEW
—Kevin Jones

All those
Tales about
The brave
Lighthouse
Keeper’s wife
Who ran
The place
For years
Decades even
After the spouse
Perished
In a horrible fall.

But sometimes
On a dark
And foggy
Night,
I think,
There, top
Of the
Twisting
Stair, one “Oh,
Hon, your
Shoe’s
Untied,”
And
Peace,
Quiet,
And job
Security
For life.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

There comes a moment in the day, when you have written your pages in the morning, attended to your correspondence in the afternoon, and have nothing further to do. Then comes the hour when you are bored; that's the time for sex. —H. G. Wells

__________________

—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. 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.

Then, in February: On Weds., February 11, Rattlesnake Press will be releasing 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.

And on February 19, the premiere of our new, free Poetry Unplugged quarterly, WTF, edited by frank andrick, will be celebrated at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, 8 PM. (For those of you just tuning in, Poetry Unplugged is the long-running reading series at Luna's Cafe.)

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 The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!


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, or any other day!): 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.

Those Spectacular Inner Landscapes

A LIGHTHOUSE

may be
the perfect
paradox,
empty, near
the shining
sea, droning
at passers by,
beware of
my austerity,
with intervals
of calm around
a captivating
mote. Freud
said, a lighthouse
is just a lighthouse,
nothing more,
the perfect
paradox, maybe.

—Ann Privateer, Davis

__________________

Thanks to Rattlechapper Ann Privateer for the photo and lighthouse poem. Let this be our Seed of the Week: The Lighthouse. And thanks to our other poets today: Ann Wehrman for the poem inspired by last Sunday's firefly, to Donald Anderson and Marie Ross for more of their collaborative poetry, and to Ann Privateer for her poem about sin. Those sin poems just keep coming in; apparently poets know a lot about it...

Speaking of lighthouses:


Call for submissions:

Bay Nature is a quarterly magazine dedicated to the intelligent and joyful exploration of the natural places, plants, and wildlife of the San Francisco Bay Area. It contains writing, photography, art, and cartography about the natural history of the land and waters of the nine counties ringing the Bay, as well as significant nearby areas (such as the Delta and Monterey Bay). We are a nonprofit enterprise, sponsored by the Bay Nature Institute in Berkeley, California. Our articles and features generally range from 700-3,000 words. Pays is up to 50 cents/word. Bay Nature is also seeking submissions for a new, twice-annual "Literary in Nature" feature. We are looking for poems, essays, and short fiction. Prose pieces should be approximately 1,600 words or fewer, inspired by the natural world of the San Francisco Bay Area. Info: http://baynature.org/about/submissions

___________________

THE CROWDED FREEWAY

has seven deadly sins.
Fast fidelity moves
into the modern lane.
It’s an honest roadway
conveyance dropping
shoes into the humility
pool. Today sun shines.
There is purity after six
days of diligent rain
turning asphalt into
a slate washed clean
by courage. There’s
clarity until…a patch
of fur bristles in
the mirror to magnify
the smudge of guts.

—Ann Privateer, Davis

___________________

LOVE LIGHTS
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento

downhill in darkness
close, humid Illinois
summer nights’ mystery
hurry up/be careful
feet over dew-slick grass,
rocks, gravel
hand in hand, descend
amidst tiny, yellow flickers
merry in the grass
fill the dark valley
with warm twinkling,
unforgettable
in twenty-first century
California, where
fireflies may soon
be no more

__________________

CARVING OUT FATE
—Donald R. Anderson and Marie J. Ross, Stockton

The statue is already there, one simply frees it
by carving the marble, unchaining its prison of rock.
These statues could not speak, but they beckon on prayers
as the wings rise illusively in the glowing morning rays of light
through stained glass windows on high.

If it could step from the pedestal wings flared downward, would they
reflect in vermilion with pitchfork in hand? Wings capture air from
many directions where sky is serene, or from the flames burning of
war. Prepare, lest marble seeks the flames.

An honor of such magnitude is the artwork so fine, upon war time
a stone hits arm and fragments it. Across stunned silence a voice,
“And take the other arm, too!” from its sculptor. And so symmetry
in the chaos, an order to the disaster makes it bearable, yet bittersweet.

In a Roman courtyard, sunlight shines on a warrior’s toga, sandals strapped
to thick ankle, armor gleaming with bravery. If his angular face were
etched in granite, would his helmet fall from grace on the royal plot.

Standing alone, winds of fate blow through now crushed pillars,
an empire defeated by too gluttonous an appetite. Salvage and historians
preserve in museums under golden lights, the tantalizing past lures
many curious adventurers living vicariously on the shapes carved with care,
morning rays of light through tinted glass windows on high.

___________________

THE YEAR FILLED WITH SPECTACULAR LANDSCAPES
—Donald R. Anderson and Marie J. Ross

A calendar panoramic, seasonal, old time city scenes,
what does it say of things: beauty of another place,
ambiance of colors or chill of cold, memories of olden
times, boarded sidewalks, and saloons?

Golden pink blossoms on gentle hills in scenic romance,
like Italy, or Romania, or Madrid, or France.
The cottages leap from the wall, hung there with care,
and sweet dreams lay dormant beyond the images there.

I’ll dance with the leaves like the wind tells me to,
walk on cobblestone on the streets of antiquity, recall
the times in a ghost town, gold mines hidden between
rocky plateaus in the heat of sun.

The saloons will swing with rambunctious piano and
the miners will spend their new-found glory or drown
their sad-luck stories in whiskey until morning light.
3 o’clock morning markets will bustle with new-found life.

There are no cobblestones, they assemble on Mediterranean
streets where sandals and shoes shuffle ancient dust, salty air
and white domes loom. I flip the calendar’s pages—flowers,
beach bags, forest cathedrals and snow castles spring off the page.

Upon the rocky snow-capped caves a wolf’s wild coat fluffs
in the winter wind, eyes looking amber like the fires of mountain cabins.
Precise notebooks clap shut, the day closes on a spectacular sunset
as the calendar rests by starlight on sleepy eyes under warm patchwork quilt.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

I think that in order to write really well and convincingly, one must be somewhat poisoned by emotion. Dislike, displeasure, resentment, fault-finding, imagination, passionate remonstrance, a sense of injustice—they all make fine fuel.

—Edna Ferber

__________________

—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. 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.

Then, in February: On Weds., February 11, Rattlesnake Press will be releasing 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.

And on February 19, the premiere of our new, free Poetry Unplugged quarterly, WTF, edited by frank andrick, will be celebrated at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, 8 PM. (For those of you just tuning in, Poetry Unplugged is the long-running reading series at Luna's Cafe.)

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 The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!


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, or any other day!): 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.

Tender Beads of Spring Light

Sousaphone

TRAPPED INSIDE A SOUSAPHONE
—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento

If you continue reading past the words

sour mash
sourpuss
and sour wood

you'll find the word "sousaphone."
And there in the margin
of the dictionary is a tiny
picture of a woman
trapped in a huge sousaphone.

The bulky metal tubing winds around
her waist and up over her shoulder.
A large flaring bell reigns over her
head. Her hands are gripping
trumpet-like keys as she tries to pull the
sousa off. But the long narrow
tube pressing against her lips holds
her face pinned, in a pained expression
to the front of her head. She has
no way of escape, being drug along
by the marching band, her baseball cap
cocked to one side.

__________________

This week in NorCal poetry:

•••Tonight (Mon., 1/26), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Flatman Crooked with Chris “Whitey” Erickson and Joe Wenderoth. HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. Open mic after. [See last Friday's post for bios.]

Coming Up at SPC:

February 2: Miles Miniaci and Bo Lopez and Crawdad Nelson, with music by Chéne Watson and Bob Wilson of Litany.

•••Weds., 1/28: Chicano Poet & Educator Francisco X. Alarcón will make two appearances at the Mondavi in Davis on January 28, presented by the UCD Dept. of Education. The first is entitled Words Take Wing; Honoring Diversity in Children’s Literature, a Matinee for children and teachers, and including illustrator Maya Gonzalez (Jackson Hall, 10:30 AM), and the second will be an evening Lecture & Conversation with the Author in the Studio Theatre at 7 PM. Tickets are $11 General; $7 Student/Child; purchase them at the Box Office, online at www.mondaviarts.org, or call 866-754-ARTS. Info: Dr. Joanne Galli-Banducci, Lecturer and Supervisor, University of California, Davis School of Education
jagallibanducci@ucdavis.edu or (530) 752-4877; (530) 752-5411 (fax).

For more about Francisco Alarcón: /spanish.ucdavis.edu/people/faculty/Alarcon

•••Weds., 1/28, 6-7 PM: Upstairs Poetry Reading at The Upstairs Art Gallery, 420 Main St. (2nd floor), Placerville. It's a poetry open-mike read-around, so bring your own poems or those of a favorite poet to share, or just come to listen. No charge.

•••Thurs., (1/29), 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento. Featured readers, with open mic before and after. Free.

•••Sat. (1/31), 7 PM: The Show Poetry Series, 2863 35th St., Sacramento (35th and Broadway). $5.00. Info: (916) 208-POET.

__________________

LATE AFTERNOON
—Virginia Hamilton Adair

The sun has gone down,
pulling the warm day with it behind the maples,
almost leafless now.
We stand by the mailbox, talking.
Flobo is a year older than I, a doctor's daughter.
After a pause, I say,
"my parents would never do such a thing."
Flobo says kindly, "They all do it.
Come over tomorrow after school;
I'll show you the pictures in Dad's medical books."

We part and I walk slowly by the long brick wall.
I begin to run and do not speak to the old lamplighter
raising his pole up to the gaslight.
At our gray-and-white front steps I stop and sit down,
pretending to tie my shoe.
Suddenly I feel ashamed to enter my own house.
Like the leaves on the sidewalk
under the gas streetlight, I feel cold and homeless.
All at once it seems sad for the leaves
never to return to their safe place along the bough.

_________________

LEAVES AND SNOW
—Virginia Hamilton Adair

The day we danced all day
wherever we found music
we were followed
by a thousand bright leaves
cutting loose
thumbing rides in air
from honey noon
to a mandarin sunset
to cold mists
circling streetlights
to the black porches
of what now.

The night it snowed
and you stayed
before the plow came
you had to walk away
from our bed of summer
across the huge whiteness
printing
printing
your dark flowers.

The day of the icicles
when we made love
on the floor
in the winter dazzle
sunfire melting
us together
forced the crystal phallus
by the window
to drop tender
beads
of spring light.

___________________

A GRAPISH VINEYARD
—Carol Louise Moon

Look long and lustfully at
the green plant life, the abundancy
of straight rows and the dirt between.
Search for pale clouds
in a rather contented sky.

Ancient oaks ever-present advise
vintners in a wisdom-imparting way:

"Vetchers, be gentle to this wild land,
the land of natives and wild hogs.
Cowbirds that fly around and
land on purple vines are to be
viewed suspiciously."

Herds of cattle on distant hilltops
milling around sheepishly
seem content, and 'though not sharing
autumn harvest, they share space.

Look again, and again:
grape vines in lines in the sunshine.

Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

__________________

Today's LittleNip(s):

GRAINFIELD
—Ibn 'Iyad (1083-1149)

Look at the ripe wheat
bending before the wind

like squadrons of horsemen
fleeing in defeat, bleeding
from the wounds of the poppies.


(translated from the Arabic by Cola Franzen)

__________________

—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. 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.

Then, in February: On Weds., February 11, Rattlesnake Press will be releasing 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.

And on February 19, the premiere of our new, free Poetry Unplugged quarterly, WTF, edited by frank andrick, will be celebrated at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, 8 PM. (For those of you just tuning in, Poetry Unplugged is the long-running reading series at Luna's Cafe.)

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 The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!


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, or any other day!): 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.......!

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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.