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Monday, August 06, 2012

Nuns, Nightgowns & Other Connections

Turkey Mullein/Dovewood/Wooly-white Drouth-weed
—Photo by Taylor Graham


HE SPOKE OF WATERFALLS AS SONGS
                —D.R. Wagner, “A Sensitive,”
—Taylor Graham, Placerville

But the lawn sprinklers don't work.
Controller he'll never understand, impossible
to program. This morning behind the house
he found a rat dead; and ground-bees
swarming—he tried to drown their nest
with a hose but only riled them up, his arm
still aches with stings. Then, a snake
coiled in the hedge, diamond-tweed, arrow-
headed—he killed it with a shovel.
His lawn is dying. Drought. Just listen
to the news, everything out of whack. Wars
and drive-bys, global warming, economy
gone postal. Broken sprinklers,
water purls up from underground in useless
pools. Overhead, the weather does
what it wishes. He won't turn on the A/C,
but sits on the deck past sundown, into dark.
He remembers rain, the songs
of waterfalls when he understood the world
and it was younger. Water singing up
from aquifers, and gathering
in clouds beyond horizon. Water wild
as any winged, creeping, leaping creature;
water singing in his sleep.

_______________

MAY NIGHT IN TUSCANY
—Patricia Hickerson, Davis

cold
ancient farmhouse in the vineyards
only a small woodstove in the upper hall
cold
up the red stone stairs
into the big bed
pull up the blankets
stare at whitewashed ceiling beams
cold
grab a book Two Weeks in Another Town
crappy but absorbing (sorry, Irwin)
cold
car tires crunch on pebbled driveway below
there’s the housemate
get in here and get cold
find more blankets
or you’ll turn to ice
coldest night of my life
cold  
          
_______________
 
NUNS GUNS AND NIGHTGOWNS
—Patricia Hickerson

when I looked into the mud heap 
of my word pool:

giggling girls
snuggling nightgowns
grabbed their guns
nodded with nuns
injured magnolias
merged and mangled
snaggled the negligėe
imagined mahogany
neglected
negated
grinned and grouted
nefarious nights
mugged and magicked
nudged their names
nuanced their nuggets
nodded
nagged
noodled
and kneed
needled nigeria
ungrimed and ingrained
nitrate of magnesium
magnetic the magnum
magnificent the margin
narrowed the smuggle
so narrow so naught  

_______________

BAD SPELL COMING
—Michael Cluff, Corona
 
Under the waves
spelling peace to Minerva,
the creatures hardly acknowledge
the passage of a plane
trailing a banner for
a mega chain retail store.

Neither does a brass tower
any longer pumping oil
into the salty air
attract their attention
until a leak or two or even more
starts to mingle in intrusive ways
over the floor
with sea horses, sunflower fish
and passing salmon
who become disoriented
on their way hoarily home.

________________

SIX SIXES
—Michael Cluff

Dwelling
between
cracks
grass
peppers
expressways



Yucca
sprouts
desert
visits
urbane
spillways


Sun
tags
fog
wins
at
noon


Tomorrow
looms
waits
for
next
tomorrows


Suits
ties
money
clips
deserved
sex


Sparrowgrass
hiding
hemlock
stumped
poison
platter

_______________ 

THE DISKOUNT SPEL
—Caschwa, Sacramento

Ther wer 99 bottles of beer on the wal
Took one down
rubbed it
Up came a geni with one lip

You have one wish left
But the government took it
As an advance against promises
You will make and not keep

Ther wer 98 bottles of beer on the wal
Took one down
rubbed it
Up came the geni's agent

Don't forget, I get 10 percent
And then ther ar taxes and tips
surcharges, handling fees
You ow us bigtime

Ther wer 97 bottles of beer on the wal
Double-barreled shotgun
No mor bottles
No mor wal.

_______________ 

Thanks to today's contributors! Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) tries to make his discount spellchecker work while Michael Cluff works on the SOW and Form to Fiddle With. Taylor Graham's dovewood photo is one of many in her album that appears on Medusa's Facebook page; check it out. Annie Menebroker (in the photo below) also has an album on our Facebook page, one from her trip to the recent A.D. Winan's reading in SF. (See www.sfgate.com/books/article/S-F-poet-AD-Winans-reflects-on-life-works-3721130.php for an article about Winans.) B.Z. Niditch, who sent us our LittleNip, has a new book out from Presa Press called Captive Cities; in it, he has a poem for Winans called "Captive in the City of Angels"; you can find BZ's new book at presapress.com/. Sandy Thomas, who took the photo of old friends (since the '60's) Annie Menebroker and Joyce Odam, is stoked because the reading series she co-hosts with Trina Drotar has been nominated for a Sacramento News & Review "Best of reading or lecture series"—see the green board at the right for a link to the nominees, and see the Crossroad Reading Series Facebook page for pix. And watch the Kitchen and Facebook for more from Joyce tomorrow, her 88th birthday!

Let's see—did I get it all? What a tangled web of connections today! Isn't it grand?

Oh—and watch for more about B.Z.'s swallows (la golondrina) tomorrow, too!

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

BENEATH THE REMAINS
(A special poem for kk who appreciates the mission of the poet)
—B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA

San Francisco,
you summoned
the flower children
where nature
reached us
on our shadows
of a historic city

Tomorrow
the mourning doves
will return
with clairvoyant angels
by sea voices
where wan memory
still resides in saints
the poets on the earth
who, like St. Francis
still commune
with the swallows.

_______________

—Medusa



  Joyce Odam, Annie Menebroker
—Photo by Sandy Thomas, Sacramento