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Monday, August 22, 2011

Writing in the Fog

 Photo by Robin Gale Odam


TWO MORE MILES
—Robin Gale Odam, Sacramento

His dream car...yellow...no, gold...maize, yes,
and sleek, screaming fast full throttle past his
competitors toward the first bend—the radio
crackled with static...

The traffic light turned red in the early morning.
His heavy old boot found the brake and the
hulking city work truck, the color of mustard and
affectionately named Honey, groaned to a stop.
He waited obediently, looking ahead for...a glimpse
of the checkered flag...

The traffic light turned green and Honey pulled
through her gears...into the graceful curve
of the next bend, a streak of yellow...no, gold...maize,
yes, sun-kissed, screaming fast full throttle—his
silver hair slicked back, nicotine-stained fingers
gripping the smooth knob of the shift rod, oily boot
working the clutch...

red light, radio crackling orders, two more miles
to the job site.

____________________

A TRUE NAME
—Katy Brown, Davis

I want a name that plunged from the sky:
a shooting star, born out beyond time
in the darkest quadrant of the void.

I want a name like water:
sieved through limestone aquifers,
materializing out of desert stone.

I want a name born in air:
the transparent passion supporting
owls and thunderheads.

I want a sunflower name:
double helix of meaning and form,
following the sun’s arc.

I want a name known only to foxes:
passed from vixen to kit
in dens beside the rattling talus.

I want a name that can only be sung
by the great blue whales when they
dive to scrape the roofs of Atlantis.

I want a name condors call
to one another, riding the thin air
over desolate peaks in the Andes.

I want a name that only is spoken
by candlelight on All Hallows Eve
and firelight on Beltane:

The true name of the red-haired woman
in my dreams who watches me
through a crumpled mirror.

____________________

ABOUT YOUR OPTIONS
—Katy Brown

Plead Not Guilty to the monthly minimum;
forfeit your residential and work addresses;
proceed with a trial; seize utility bills.
Do not send cash.
File a completed certificate.

The court may:
require additional income;
notify you of its decision;
take one or more options;
make a record;
refuse completion.

Confidential certification
in an additional appearance
may result in
(check box)
place a hold
suspend
renew
arrest

Docket Number
655 Oleander
12507HJ
08/06/2011
§1214.1
BCSC
95618

PLEASE READ
complete
pay on line
visit
GO

______________________

FOLLOWING THE ELECTRICITY
—D.R. Wagner, Elk Grove

I was as surprised as you to see
Sheep in the hallways of the house
And hurrying as well from room to
Room, the theater of scents and
Noises. A quest it seemed but then

I noticed that a fine aura of clear
Blue electricity surrounded them.
They had been transformed, if only
For those moments into seekers
Of a larger thing, a song, a freshlet,
The million things that people bring

To tie together, form a ring, another
Way of knowing, a citadel of secrets,
Wings that lift one from the common
Fields of meadow grass and clover,
Push them toward the highest sounds.

This clings to them, electricity upon
The wool and through the skin that
Drives them past their sheepy silences
Outdoors and brings them in to find
The long lost lambs, the long forgotten
Sires, the ewes that came before them,
Secrets of the moments not the now.

____________________

PAIRINGS
—Caschwa, Sacramento

Fragile vase
Easily broken
Into a million pieces
Very expensive
Heavily guarded.

Fragile feelings
Easily broken
Into a million doubts
No market value
Who cares?

*** *** ***

Lawmakers enact laws
To force deadbeat dads
Who spend large on themselves
To pay child support

Carefully omitting provisions

That would force
Deadbeat lawmakers
Who spend large on themselves
To pay taxpayer support.

*** *** ***

The tide ebbs and flows
For an eternity
Unmindful of purpose
But overflowing
With dedication

‘Neath a bridge
Taking commuters
Back and forth,
Back and forth
Just to reach
Jobs that don’t quite pay enough
And homes that need repair.

_____________________

GROWING DIRT
—Caschwa

The white collar investor
Sits in a plush chair
on the sunlit garden balcony
of his affluent office
Feeling good about himself:

Dedication—to finish what you start
Energy—to get things moving
Risk—that puts the worth in worthwhile
Legal—obedient to the law

He needs to remind himself of these virtues
Because there is mounting social concern
That the product of his efforts is just plain dirty.

…so dreams the coal miner when he is
given 30 seconds to rest…

______________________

PLUPERFECT AMNESIA
—Caschwa

My taste buds cherish those
Long forgotten delicious moments
From a variety of situations
When I savored that
Perfect cup of coffee

Flavored with vanilla
And some kind of nut
Suitable for sipping hot
Or freezing and
Putting atop a sugar cone.

How I enjoyed it comes out boldly,
But what it was named,
Who brewed it, and
Where I got it:
Vanished.

On this present day
And each day forward
I will seek out that
Perfect cup of coffee

And a refill.

_____________________

VALHALLA
—Dave Boles

i have lived
much too long
the warrior blood
that runs through
my veins
clogs
my heart
increases
blood pressure
causes many
medications
to be ordered
doctors incessantly
for the past
fifteen years
tell me i will die
if i do not get
it all
under control
for my sons
sake
i take the medication
and slow myself
down
though one day
knowing
i will
as will
we all
die
i will throw the medications
and doctors advice
aside
grab the war axe
i have been
steadily
crafting
let loose
a final cry
and watch my ancestors
nod
approvingly
from their thrones
in Valhalla

___________________

OUTSIDE IS BABYLON
—Dave Boles

the cafe is filled
early morning feeding
is the order of the day
in the heartland
of America
mom and pop still reign
in these all too often
relics
of a past
somewhere
in America
corned beef hash
three eggs
hash browns
sourdough toast
cup of coffee
gets the fire going
farmers
teachers
accountants
couple of cops
handful of truckers
this is America
early in the morning
amid the noise
the waitresses
swirl
bringing heaping
plates
of rejuvenation

on this morning
like any
other
morning
the sun rises
in the heartland
of America
but tonight
while the stillness
of the heartland
sleeps
Babylon will rise

in the morning
as the cafe opens
and the truckers'
coffee brews
America will wake
to a few less
mom and
pop
cafes

Babylon smiles
knowing
in the stillness
of the night
it paves the way
for a brand new
America

our country
lies safe
in its unwillingness
to become
involved
it is warm
comfortable
as it pulls its covers
over its head

outside Babylon
is calling

one step
is upon the threshold

one hand

is opening
the door.

_____________________

Lots of poetry today, and thanks to all these contributors! About her "found" poem, Katy Brown says: I'm not saying where I found the words. I refuse to incriminate myself. . . . though the poem is pretty clear. And welcome to the Kitchen to Dave Boles, editor/publisher of Primal Urge and co-host of Poetry With Legs, the new reading series at Shine Cafe in Sacramento. There's a reading there this coming Wednesday; go to the b-board on the right of this for info.

_____________________ 

Today's LittleNip: 

Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.

—E.L. Doctorow

____________________

—Medusa