Phishing

—Photo by Ann Privateer

THE AND HAIKU
—Ann Privateer, Davis

and can be food for deep thought

when stumped by someone

who knows the answers

Phishing

too much data

from my boss, the giant bell

pepper, I shall prepare to be ill

amble along the quai near the mill

until lunch hour ends then sell

my polka passes on ebay, hell

dancers move to any farmer-in-the-dell

direction unimportant, well...

let's have a shout out flash mob

to begin each forwarded message.

_____________________

SNOWBOARDING

—Patricia Hickerson, Davis

last winter at Tahoe

Banjo-boy snowboarded with Koko-jo

up and down the hills they bounded

curved their boards like airborne kayaks

across icy drafts

and down the February chill

past lurching trees

sailed frigid valleys

white-topped hillocks

tats of wind-blown lace blotted their faces

joined hands Banjo and Koko-jo

on the back slopes

night fell

or was it a dream?

her sheaf of long black hair

like molten licorice strands

melted against the snow:

she lay back for pure joy

opened her quilted kimono

invited him in

Banjo prayed to the moon

tossed their boards down the mountainside

pretended they were on Mt. Fuji          

_____________________

CRAZED

—Patricia Hickerson

they were crazy about each other

crazy crazy

they did everything together

they snowboarded they skied they fished they climbed trees they prowled bookshops

they never did anything apart from each other they ran they jogged they laughed

it was all for each other crazy crazy

they touched fingers hands lips

what they didn’t do wasn’t worth mentioning

they did it in sunlight they did it in the dark

they read books together they wrote poetry together

they didn’t care about anything anyone else

crazy crazy

they crashed together they cried together they cringed together

they cooked together they ate together they slept together

they had a baby together it got too crazy the baby crying in the dark

they screamed and fell apart

it just got too crazy crazy crazy crazy  

______________________ 

SHE BLOSSOMED IN 1925

—Patricia Hickerson

bless Jesus so she did

she placed her feet squarely on concrete

at Broadway and W. 103^rd St.

there was a rooming house

run by Mrs. Johnson

Marietta put herself and her young son

into one of the rooms

went to work in the hat shop down the street

she was 43 straight out of Oklahoma City

via a train through the mighty St. Louis Station

she expected to return again

after her daughter’s New York wedding

but her husband never sent the return fare

Marietta was a beautiful woman

and she modeled hats beautifully

women came into the shop

tried on the hats she modeled

hoping to look as fetching as Marietta

she was happy living on concrete

never missed the prairie

its dry heat had sickened her

so had her husband

New York was her city

her money

her happiness

she blossomed like a summer rose

rising unexpectedly through a sidewalk crack

______________________

RECALL

—Patricia Hickerson
 

Grandpa, I’d like to recall you from 1923

you were 46 years old

like to have a drink with you

let’s go to a bar your last night on earth

I’ll recognize you from your old photo

(unless it’s one of Grandma’s brothers—Fred or Willie)

well, come on, let’s have a drink

in that old bar on Fordham Road

I know you were living in the Bronx then

in a rooming house

we’ll have a drink

what’s it to be? scotch straight up?

was that your poison? then I’ll let you go home

your last night on earth

this is fun, sort of, isn’t it? sitting here with you

you seem happy to see me

you touch my cheek I touch yours

your skin is olive warm soft Alsatian

your voice is deep and gentle

you say ich weis nicht in puzzlement

tell me what you’ve been doing

still driving that butcher’s wagon in East Hampton?

no, that was several years ago

I know you saw Grandma on Fifth Avenue last winter

it was snowing you called out to her Elsie! Elsie!

but she walked on, head down

didn’t want to speak to you

after all you deserted her 15 years ago can you blame her?

she’s on her way to her job as theater cashier

let’s finish our drinks

no sense dwelling on the past

you can leave now go up to your room

up the stairs can you make it? you seem unsteady

eyes bleary turn on the gas lamp

hey, you forgot to light it, don’t you hear it hissing?

but you’re already in bed with all your clothes on…slowly dying

goodnight, sweet Grandpa  

__________________________

Thanks to these three poets from Davis for whipping up some goodies for our Kitchen today!

Good news from JoAnn Anglin of Sacramento, and she hopes some of you can attend either or both of two awards ceremonies, one at 6pm on May 29 in City Hall, 915 I St., 1st floor, Sac.; the other at 10:45 a.m. at the County Bldg., 700 H St., Ste. 1450, Sac. JoAnn is being presented with two awards from Sacramento City and County: she has been selected to receive Chair of the Board of Supervisors' Award of Sac. Metropolitan Arts Council's District Arts Program for Fiscal Year 2011, as well as the District Art Program's Award for Sacramento City's District 6! Congrats, JoAnn!

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Today's LittleNip:

On the way to Placerville,

a pair of vultures circle, wings tipping
in the bobbing movement that catches
a filament of air.

In shifting updrafts,
careful as acrobats with balance-poles
they trace the thermal thread of morning.

—Katy Brown, Davis

________________________

—Medusa

 —Photo by Ann Privateer