Sunset on a Hot, Steamy Day
—Photo by Taylor Graham
THIS JUST IN…
in the midst
of summer’s blistering heat
births, people dying
left and right,
the news
Obama halts deportations,
a flesh-eating bug
eats a woman,
and there’s a Tiger
in the U.S. Open.
the world’s going broke,
down the toilet
terrorists, child molesters,
death and politics
who the hell
is who?
movie stars
worshipped, lusted after
in youth
frighteningly old now,
or dead
Gene Bloom, great local poet,
died the same day
as guitar legend Doc Watson,
good company
my sister’s biopsy
came back benign
i stopped
holding my breath
heat
pushes a hundred today
steam
rising from the pavement
in the midst
of summer’s blistering heat
births, people dying
left and right,
the news
Obama halts deportations,
a flesh-eating bug
eats a woman,
and there’s a Tiger
in the U.S. Open.
the world’s going broke,
down the toilet
terrorists, child molesters,
death and politics
who the hell
is who?
movie stars
worshipped, lusted after
in youth
frighteningly old now,
or dead
Gene Bloom, great local poet,
died the same day
as guitar legend Doc Watson,
good company
my sister’s biopsy
came back benign
i stopped
holding my breath
heat
pushes a hundred today
steam
rising from the pavement
—Charles Mariano, Sacramento
_______________________
BY THE WATER
—Kim Clyde, Sacramento
—Kim Clyde, Sacramento
Watching
From the windows
Of this misshapen cocoon
This
Faceted cube
Sitting high upon
Spindly iron legs
In the treetops
By the water
Dazzled by the reflections
Coursing by
Imagining my self
A leaf
On this morning river
Making my way
To the distant shore.
_______________________
WATER NYMPH
—Kim Clyde
Keeping pace
With the frog prince
Doing laps in the pool
His body
Leathery and bronze
Lithe.
His stroke easy
Unstudied
Long and strong
For all his
Diminutive
Size
I'm certain
He can out pace me
No matter how much
Stronger my kick
From the edge.
It is not in my genes
To be so beautiful.
_______________________
MORE ABOUT FROGS
—Kim Clyde
Nighttime chirruping
Frogs
Sing for
Each glistening
Star
Wheeling in
Heaven.
______________________
EVENSONG
—Kim Clyde
—Kim Clyde
Moonlight on water
Like torchlight
On soldiers shields
Marching
Relentlessly onward.
_______________________
IN FEW WORDS
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
My father was a study
in silence. In sepia: a young man
harnessing horse to buggy,
guiding a newborn to first breath;
old man turning kitchen parings
into a desert backyard lush
with avocados, lemons, his sly smile.
He opened up worlds by walking
strides longer than his legs.
Silence was his best
friend, it kept his secrets.
_______________________
FAIRY STUFF
—Taylor Graham
Sneak away
and plant a garden along the stream—
Indian paintbrush, columbine, edged with rocks
that glitter hieroglyphs in water. Learn
to read them all, language that's so close to
Fairy, indecipherable to humans;
invention of magic, of imagination; each
syllable spawned from zero, owned by
no one. Streamlet stories of mountain alder, owl
pellets—while, back at camp, they're
banging on the dinner gong. You're only hungry
for this language: Fairy, flowing water.
Swallow it word by word until
it glows from you inside. You're lightening,
invisibling, with wings.
Your garden till summer passes
into spring.
_______________________
I'M MAKING SHRINES AGAIN—
gathering seeds and bells
and shiny things—
pine resin and myrrh oil—
feathers and bits of broken robin eggs.
Shrines for spirits—
for attracting desires—
creating small spaces to express
devotion— to project hope—
to summon something larger. . . .
No need to build a pyramid
or reach into forever.
For me, small wooden boxes
become monuments,
balance satisfaction with desire.
gathering seeds and bells
and shiny things—
pine resin and myrrh oil—
feathers and bits of broken robin eggs.
Shrines for spirits—
for attracting desires—
creating small spaces to express
devotion— to project hope—
to summon something larger. . . .
No need to build a pyramid
or reach into forever.
For me, small wooden boxes
become monuments,
balance satisfaction with desire.
—Katy Brown, Davis
_______________________
WE HAVEN'T SPOKEN OF SERPENTS LATELY—
forked tongues, quick as lightning;
smooth sulfur underbellies;
black stare— obsidian intense.
Mostly, they’re not interested in you and me.
None of the local ones are hunting the cat;
and aside from the odd urban rattler,
they are harmless— locally.
I mention them because I saw a dead snake
beside the road on the way home last night.
All grace and a million years of stealth—
a flattened twist beside the lane.
I wondered who would swerve out of traffic
to run over a snake.
The spot was far from urban development
and not near a bike path.
My headlights tunneled through the dark
and I kept thinking about the snake: helpless
against a car and the killer behind the wheel.
I wonder at a wider intolerance
barreling over any foreign thing,
no matter how far removed.
I think it is time to talk about serpents
and apples again; and the sound
of a stone axe smashing a brother’s skull.
forked tongues, quick as lightning;
smooth sulfur underbellies;
black stare— obsidian intense.
Mostly, they’re not interested in you and me.
None of the local ones are hunting the cat;
and aside from the odd urban rattler,
they are harmless— locally.
I mention them because I saw a dead snake
beside the road on the way home last night.
All grace and a million years of stealth—
a flattened twist beside the lane.
I wondered who would swerve out of traffic
to run over a snake.
The spot was far from urban development
and not near a bike path.
My headlights tunneled through the dark
and I kept thinking about the snake: helpless
against a car and the killer behind the wheel.
I wonder at a wider intolerance
barreling over any foreign thing,
no matter how far removed.
I think it is time to talk about serpents
and apples again; and the sound
of a stone axe smashing a brother’s skull.
—Katy Brown
______________________
Today's LittleNip(s):
WHOOPS!
—Kim Clyde
Floating in the pool
The bird lands on my belly
I am an island
MORNING COFFEE MUSIC
—Kim Clyde
The water is lead
Like my eyes in the morning
Untold
depths in each.
_____________________
—Medusa
—Photo by Taylor Graham