—Photo by Taylor Graham
BLACKBERRY BLUES
—Taylor Graham,
Placerville
Early morning August, I'm
following
my puppy following the
scent
of an old woman gone
searching
for lost berries. The
trail's laced with vines—
thorns strung across our
path. My pup
stops, looks back at me. Are
you sure? I tell
her “track.” Running
shorts through
worry-beads of knives,
through berry-tangles
behind my dog who's game
for anything.
Her very first summer.
Blackberries
unripe among the plump and
wizened,
spiked with thorns. We
come out scratched,
scrapped bloody on the
other side.
And there sits our quarry,
mouth stained
with sweet trespass.
Berries
wink blue-black from the
bramble.
_________________
BLUE OF DISTANT FIRE
—Taylor Graham
Remember in another
season,
how day's end flares from
the heart
of oak. We borrow heat,
fall from summer,
age to age, like
words—ancient,
foreign words truer for
their strangeness.
Chill of ancestral tales
whispered
across waves. Did Beowulf
ever get
the blues? You've been
reading
from the tablet till we
lapse to silence,
listening. Celtic,
Sanskrit,
the speech of lizards,
breath of bees asleep
in their hives; wind's own
language
of longing, fluted to the
flames. Blue ash.
Above our roof, stars—you
find
them mapped on your
screen.
All these facts, figures,
fables
at our fingertips. I stare
into the fire
at a single blue flare
speaking from the heart of
oak.
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis
DRAGONFLY
—Carol Louise Moon,
Sacramento
Dragonflies that skim the
skies
flit over blue summer
pools.
That one, dainty and red
flies into the western
sun beyond the palm,
then flickers eastward.
His day not yet complete,
he contemplates the lemon
tree.
(first pub. in Brevities)
__________________
GRAY FUR
—Carol Louise Moon
Gray and busy, he is
planting;
he has found his nuts
aplenty.
Digging up the neighbor’s
garden
he has buried his good
treasure.
Climbing up a tree-bark
ladder—
bushy tail so quickly
follows.
Looking out, his eyes are
searching
—sentry from a high limb
lurking.
(A Finnish form, the
Kalevada is composed in trochaic tetrameter,
resulting in feminine
line-endings of eight unrhymed lines.)
_________________
ESPINELLA BY THE BAY
—Carol Louise Moon
—Carol Louise Moon
From this green cliff I
watch the boats
skimming across a
blue-gray bay.
White gulls dip down as if
to play.
I come at noon to watch
what floats
and skims the rocky edge
till goats
who pasture right nearby
come stand
to survey the grand
parade. And
So I am—rapt—and so
content
to know my aging days are
spent
with goats in ice plant,
salt and sand.
________________
ADAM EVERSON
—Michael Cluff, Corona
Lived under a boardwalk
or several at a time
between 23 and 25
until every one
corroded into the black
heavy sea.
The sand was now a lack
of nutrients and allusions
to precivilized times.
At 28
he had underdone Kafka
became a student of tofu
wrote a book about
it all
and called the piece
an organic type
of philosophy
which
was as hamfisted
as any brown-washed bay
in late winter.
Now at 39,
he sells
herringbone sports coats
striped ties
mismatched underwear
and mastodon-weighed
wingtips
at any of three desert
outlets
ringing the ingresses into
LA
while
working underfoot
to put palisades
near any viable ocean,
lake
or mud-made reservoir.
Last week he drove a
Porsche
until it became a Honda
of blue sorts.
_________________
DEFINED
SPACE
(Imagine
a world where)
the
average person
has no
problem
remembering
a rooomful
of odd
names
the
ruling class is
double
jointed
and
expects everyone
else to
be, of course
hierarchical
relationwhips
need no
introduction or
explanation,
it's just
common
sense
personal
memories
cannot
be shared without
the
advice of legal
counsel,
for a fee
the
Census taker takes
your
children to the airport
where
you're lucky to
get the
same ones back
people
who look up
crossword
puzzle answers
are
struck by lightning
for
cheating
vampires
running for
office
must provide
their
tax returns
for 500
years
the
torch of liberty
was
locked in a nation
of
laws, bylaws, and
standardized
tests
—Caschwa, Sacramento
_________________
THINK
TANK
—Caschwa
First,
put all your good
high
octane, unleaded
ready
to burn thoughts
in the
tank
Then
cap it
so
there are
no
leaks
Next
pump some out
in
carefully measured amounts
to the
carbeurator (lucky guess)
over by
the engine
Inspect
the lines
so
there are
no
leaks
Spurt
some to the spark plugs
in the
manner of an adeolescent
escalating
an ego founded on
hormone
overload
Chewing
sunflower seeds
spitting
out the shells
like it
was an Olympic event
Some
energy will go
to
power the engine
some
for accessories
some to
forever recirculate
As
those old
newspapers
in
archives
Silly
rumors
in the
jet stream
homeless
orphans
disowned
by reason and logic
Rust
alert!
Leaks
imminent
Shut
down everything.
____________________
Thanks to today's contributors! Here are a couple of new books from SnakePals:
Jane Blue's daughter, Catherine Weaver, has published a book aimed
at tweens, Gold Dust. The best place to find all
the information on it is at Amazon: www.amazon.com/Gold-Dust-Catherine-Weaver/dp/0983848548 The wonderful anime-influenced
illustrations are by her daughter, Kyra Weaver.
And Paul Lojeski, who posts with us from time to time from The Other Coast, has a new comic novel, The Reverend Jimmy Pup, which is also available now on Amazon: www.amazon.com/The-Reverend-Jimmy-Paul-Lojeski/dp/1477459073/ref=zg_bsnr_271591011_7
_____________________
Today's LittleNip:
QUESTIONS
BIGGER THAN ANSWERS
(What
do Alex Trebek's long running quiz show
Jeopardy
and the New York Times Crossword
Puzzle
have in common?)
—Caschwa
I knew
that
Everyone
knows that
I
should have known that
I couldn't
care less if I ever know that
Education
is the key
No
question is too hard
With my
BFL degree
Said
the Bald Faced Liar bard
The
world is a stage
And all
the people
Are
stage hands
Looking
for an agent
Does
New York boast
An
insurance
Company
named
Niagara
Falls?
_________________
—Medusa
How did you celebrate National Honey Bee Day
last Saturday?
last Saturday?