—John Donne
TIS the year's midnight, and it is the day's,
Study me then, you who shall lovers be
All others, from all things, draw all that's good,
But I am by her death—which word wrongs her—
But I am none; nor will my sun renew.
—B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA
With a banker's valise
of debits and credits
he lets nothing slide
With his city bureaucratic
luggage made of leather
he looks down at you
With four degrees in hand
at his latest graduation
his chest swells
With his station master's
authority
you hold your ticket up
With a mop in hand
he overpowers his brother
out of work.
___________________
OUR PRESENTIMENTS
—B.Z. Niditch
Approaching sundown
your friend paints
her fingernails green
after her last affair
with a stud
and Hollywood understudy,
the buzz downtown
expects her suffocating
break-ups to go on
like all the others,
to last a headache full
of a week's drama
queen memories
on walls of rumors
to capture her lovers
misadventures,
reeling in words
like diphthongs
of departures.
___________________
CRYSTAL LAKE
—B.Z. Niditch
A runaway teenager
with a pale gaze
from the lake's sunrise
hides blank pages
of his little black book
of addresses
in his jeans
back pocket
checking out
an infinite recital
of phone numbers
in a visage of words
now reflecting on
a deliberation of trees
as thunder rolls by
on newborn shadows
transfigured by
his father's
and mother's nature.
_____________________
for Newtown
—Tom Goff, Carmichael
I say Eden was abandoned the day
gunpowder sparked in Heaven and spread,
serpent-spread, here below. The day
our Parents left: what we never hear of
is the unholy racket, sanctimonious noise:
stacked grails, gold gold and white gold,
shot off the garden fence rails, Michael
at practice. We only thought, from
Milton on down, the sword of fire capped
with silencer. With wandering steps and slow
on through Eden and out, till the spray
of celestial hell, or the sight of the muzzle flash,
stanched their weeping: then they dove
& sped crawling through thorns for safety,
mimicking one living thing they’d fatally met
but never given a name.
Rachel Hansen of The Book Collector writes: HUGE SALE at The Book Collector this weekend! This Friday, Saturday and Sunday (December 21st to 23rd) almost all our books will be 50% OFF! Only the second time in almost 18 years that we've offered such a deep discount. This is NOT a going out of business sale, just a chance to save on great reads. It will be raining but the bookstore will be warm and dry and the mall will be crowded and depressing. Where would you rather be? The Book Collector [Home of the Snake] is located at 1008 24th Street, on 24th Street between J and K Streets in Midtown Sacramento. I will be there most of the weekend if you want to stop by for a hug—I could use a few. Please tell your friends!
—Michael Cluff, Corona
Christmas Day is almost here
but first let us hope
the 21st does not go
strange and queer
and the sun swallows up the planet
with a fireball or hot plasma flow
or even a stray asteroid called Janet
but being alone I could not cope
with even the lightest axis trope.