Pockets , Bumbags & La Strada

—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA

TURKEY IN THE STRAW, BUT NOT FOR YOU
—Kevin Jones, Elk Grove, CA

Ice cream van
Passed him up
Again. Because
He knew Coyote
Had no money. Never
Did. Because, no
Pockets. Never had.
Even those great bibs
His granny made for
Him when he
Was just a pup.

In one scene in the animated 1968 Beatles movie, Yellow Submarine, Ringo Star declares “I got a hole in me pocket”
  Just before, Ringo is chasing the "nowhere man”, Jeremy Hillary Boob, Ph.D.
  Boob is a resident of the Sea of Nothing which features big black "polka-dots" on a white background
  Ringo fails in trying to catch Boob, who suddenly disappears down into a polka-dot
  Instead Ringo grabs and picks up a “hole” which turns out to be “portable”
  A kind-of-fascinated Ringo puts the hole on over his head and pulls it out, then pulls his leg in and out
  Ringo finds out it “folds up”, too, and figures it might be cool to keep this "portable hole” in his pants pocket
  There are scientists who probably would also have wanted to physically carry around such an “escape” to another universe
  Professor Stephen Hawking, especially, would have loved to pull a little “black hole” out of one of his pockets to demonstrate a lecture


—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA

La Strada is an Italian 1950’s tragic film which should probably be considered as essential a viewing as Bicycle Thief
    It’s about a young woman named Gelsomiana who performs as a trumpet-playing clown
    Gelsomiana's misfortune is to be “bought” from her mom by an abusive strong man named Zampano
    The girl then happens to fall in love with another clown in a traveling circus, named Matto, who does a high-wire tightrope act
     Zampano gets jealous and enraged with Matto for his continued taunting, and gets arrested for attacking Matto with a knife 
    Though fired from the circus for his violent behavior,
    when Zampano gets released from jail he decides to murder Matto when he finds him again
    Gelsomiana is of course furious with Zampano , but he decides to abandon her rather than murder her, too
    But then shortly after, he regrets dumping her when he realizes he needs her to help him with his street act
    He weeps that he can’t find her, especially when he finds out she might be dead
    French are supposedly known for film noir
    But indeed there are also Italian filmmakers who deserve credit, too, for dealing with dark-subject tragedy as much as with opera

—Michelle Kunert

Interestingly, “fanny-packs” in British English are called “bumbags”
        This is because “fanny” to the British is supposedly vulgar slang for “vulva”
        And so they use “bum” to describe a zippered pocket pack carried right above the buttocks
        even though such a pack can also be strapped on a hip or right below the belly
        Anyway, the “hands-free bag” or “belted satchel” started coming into popularity in the 1980’s
        It’s known that, unlike back packs, they don’t put strain on the spine
        The packs are “unisex”—worn by men and women alike
        and common items carried in them include mobile devices such as USB charging cables and back-up batteries
        and also bottles of water, snacks, tissue paper, first aid, isopropyl alcohol, contact lenses, and self-defense pepper spray
        There are U.S. states in which a fanny-pack can also be used to lawfully carry “concealed weapons”
        Fashion designers such as Gucci, Prada, and Louis Vuitton have even brought the fanny pack out from being considered “nerdy”


—Michelle Kunert

DEHYDRATED
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

Raspberries, fresh off the vine
cleaned up, mashed along with
some banana, and poured into
the dehydrator machine

which sits right beside this desk
and is issuing a kind of white
noise, not the visceral rumble
felt below decks on a ship

seven hours so far, about half
way till done, until the once
juicy fruit will assume a more
leathery disposition suitable
for rolling into loops

much worth waiting for
more fun to eat than to make,
quarantined or no

THE PASSAGE
—Caschwa

you have been there, we all have
the aisles in a health food store
where sly carnival mirrors
make us look fat
just to remind us

we must use their shopping list
borne of fitness and good health
forget what your mother made
start from scratch

you’re a college graduate
one degree above children
not as bright as some others
what to do now?
all you need to know

is to forget what you’ve learned
because that is old baggage
forge a new path to success
start from scratch

out in the woods the trail split
and you had no clue which way
would be the better choice—STOP
you are now in
someone’s telegram

there’s a charge for each letter
you had better be right on
start from scratch

—Anonymous Wag, Courtesy of Joseph Nolan

 

WHAT IT FEELS LIKE XXXIV
—Caschwa

when you are sitting quietly at home
and both hear and feel the enormous
rumble of two train cars being forced
to join together to take the same, long
path, and then the sounds and
vibrations disappear as the train rolls
along

and then you turn on the TV news,
only to hear and feel that same, bold,
enormous rumble as two political
factions, painted the same like two
train cars, pull out every trick in the
book to ensure that they do not join
together for that long haul 

SMATTERINGS

—Caschwa

income history, down payment, credit check,
co-signer, appraisal, escrow, rooms and baths,
how long on the market? local schools, buses,
location, location, location

please come and visit
there are cracks that will be fixed
charming weeds peek through 

***
what do concrete and final exams have in common?
for thousands of years people have been working day
and night with no breaks searching for ways to make
them harder, until today we have the pinnacle of
perfection, surpassed perhaps only by making a living:
“It can’t get any harder than this!”

the shell of a conch
has more purpose than to be
starkly beautiful 

***
how many hold the fear that death will be one of those
reunion events we simply did not want to attend? oh
dear, not that same crowd from high school that didn’t
accept me, or that bully, or that clueless lonely heart, or
all the teachers that failed me, is this forever?

and when you wake up
your fears have written a tell-
all book about you 

OLD GLORY
—Sue McMahon, Cameron Park, CA

Today’s vibe feels like Betsy Ross’s stitches
are unraveling right before our eyes,
will the fighting ever end?
Can we find our way
back to Americana,
back to the country
I thought we
all loved?
I say
yes, and
I hope
you do
too

MORNING WALK IN FOG
—Joseph Nolan

As I take a morning
Walk through morning fog,
Things slowly drift into focus
Out of blurry dreams.

I love how I take things, clearly,
The more they come to me, nearly,
Embrace me in fine, stark clarity,
Before they float away
Behind my footsteps;

And I am never the same
After I’ve been salvaged
By the specters of the fog
That touch me soft and early
Upon a morning walk. 

FIFTY-CAR PILE-UP IN THE FOG
—Joseph Nolan

A fifty-car pile-up in the fog!
They say
Was started
By a dog
Let out to pee,
That ran away,
Across the road,
After a rabbit.
After that,
They’d had it,
When the first car
Hit the brakes.
That’s all it takes.

The papers never asked,
Why it has to be,
That we drive down the road
At seventy,
Incessantly,
When we cannot
Even see
Through our tule fog
That settles in for weeks
Most every winter? 

THE SHOVELER
—Joseph Nolan

Things change more
In colder climes—
Paint peels sooner
In cracking cold.

The old
Sooner grow older
And each winter
A new crop is harvested
By heart-attack weather.

The worst is heavy, wet snow,
Deep-fallen.
Each shovel-full
Challenges aging backs,
Still, a walkway
Must be established
Past the dripping icicles,
Drooping in mid-morning sun,
From the awning of a home’s
Driveway side-door,
But this time
Will be his last time
And our old shoveler
Won’t be back, anymore. 

TWISTED PLOTS, RESOLVED
—Joseph Nolan
 
“God welcomes, also, fertilizer
Into His lovely garden,”
The old man said to me,
“And you are so full of it,
He will put you
Right there at the top!

There is no mercy,
No forgiveness,
Only Infinite appreciation
For the twisted plots
By which you have
Wound your way through life,
All the way to your death.

God will find for you
A fine place in His garden
And grow juicy, red tomatoes
From the top of your head."

SLIPPING WATERS SURELY KNOW
—Joseph Nolan

I just wanted to go swimming
To let the water flow
Along each curve of my body;

Slipping waters surely know
So much more
Than they’ll let go
In pleasant conversation,

With hippos who like to stir the mud
And crocs who lay in wait—
Waters conceal situations.
Don’t be slow!
Don’t hesitate!

Today’s LittleNip:

THE JUGGLER’S BALLS
—Joseph Nolan

When nothing happens,
A juggler’s balls
Must fall.

The curtain must come down.
The curtain-call is for a silly clown
To take the stage.

The crowd must be amused
Since they have been abused
When nothing happened.

They bought a ticket to get in
Expecting entertainment,
Wizardry of spin,
Exactitude of balance,
Lotteried experience
To win
For the price of admission,

But utter disappointment
Rings the last clown’s cue
As all the juggler’s balls
Roll around, all glazed.

_______________________

Welcome to another week at our wild and crazy Medusa’s Kitchen, where anything goes, right under your nose, thanks to these wild and crazy poets of ours! Don’t be afraid to pull up a Kitchen chair and join us by sending in your poetry to kathykieth@hotmail.com. In addition to being hungry, those snakes of hers get pretty lonely…

Today we’re still talking about clowns, pockets, the thrills and chills of government, and, of course, coronavirus. Speaking of which, I got tested for it on Friday because I’m having surgery on my arm today at 2:40 (not on the fracture, which is healing well, but on the elbow, which apparently isn’t lined up quite right). I think I have Medusa ready to go for the next few days, but if it doesn’t show up, that’s where I'll be—hiding under a bedpan somewhere. Just a little hospital r 'n' r...

Meanwhile, Sac. Poetry Center uses Zoom for weekly online readings and workshops. For more info, see www.sacramentopoetrycenter.com/. This week:

•••Mon., 10am: Writers on the Air hosted by Todd Boyd: RSVP in advance via email to writersontheair.message@gmail.com. Zoom link: us04web.zoom.us/j/358106078?pwd=YzdvelcxOW1CNWg2YnBuc05ZYUJaQT09    
(Meeting ID: 358 106 078/Password: 025674)

•••Mon. 7:15pm: SPC Monday Night Socially Distant Verse presents Ellen Bass, hosted by Lynn Belzer. Info: www.facebook.com/events/830195020838715/. Zoom: us04web.zoom.us/j/7638733462
(Meeting ID: 763 873 3462 ["P O E T R E E I N C"] Password: spcsdv2020)

•••SPC Tuesday night workshop hosted by Danyen Powell: Bring a poem for critique: us02web.zoom.us/j/346316163 (Meeting ID: 346 316 163)

•••Wed., 6pm: MarieWriters workshop (prompts) hosted by Diane Funston: zoom.us/j/671443996

•••Fri., 4pm: Writing from the Inside Out workshop led by Nick LeForce. Reg. in advance at: zoom.us/meeting/register/upwkde-opjkpnyQECAVBKolY4hKCdl61uA
After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the meeting. (If you have registered before, use the same link.)


Also this week:
•••Fri. (6/12), 7:30pm: Video poetry reading on Facebook by Davis Poet Laureate James Lee Jobe at james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com/.

•••Fri. (6/12), 6-7:30pm: Nomadic Press Virtual Press Open Mic #13. 90 min., 30 readers, 3 min. each on Zoom. All welcome. Info: www.facebook.com/events/565129650845296/?notif_t=plan_user_invited&notif_id=1591502408363009/. Sign up to read here: forms.gle/1ZNKSnnzRZpXxvUE7

For more about El Dorado County poetry events, check Western Slope El Dorado Poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/.

For other upcoming poetry readings and workshops available online while we stay at home, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

And A.D. Winans sends this link to the New Yorker article about the Billy Woodbury documentary on Bob Kaufman: www.newyorker.com/culture/the-front-row/what-to-stream-billy-woodberrys-documentary-about-the-poet-bob-kaufman/. Check it out!

_____________________

—Medusa

 
 

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 Yee-haw!