This Saturday, August 20, will be Arts Day at the State Fair, beginning with poetry festivities at 11 a.m. on the PG&E Center Stage. Cal. Poet Laureate Al Young will appear at 11:30; Sac. PL Julia Connor at 12, and Cal. High School Poet Laureate Lindsey Smith (from Annapolis in Sonoma County) at 12:15, followed by the Sac. Metro. Arts Commission's World Arts and Poetry Slam at 12:45. From then on, the day will proceed with several dance troops, including Tongan and Polynesian. For further info, check the State Fair website (just Google up "Cal. State Fair").
And also check The Sacramento Bee "Scene" section today for an interview of the above-mentioned Lindsey Smith. I didn't even know we HAD a High School Poet Laureate!
After you spend Saturday morning listening to all these Laureates, head up the hill that evening to the Grass Valley Center for the Arts, 314 W. Main St. in Grass Valley for some Cowboy Poetry featuring Mick Vernon, Janice Gilbertson and Harold Roy Miller, 7:30 p.m. $5 ($1 for those under 18). Refreshments, open mic.
Here are a couple of poems from Patricia Wellingham-Jones of Tehama. Not coincidentally, one of them is about bats...
JENNY MADE ME PROMISE
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones
that I wouldn’t say a word
when that day in mid August arrived
She gets teary-eyed
at the thought of summer’s end
So today I don’t email her
nudge smile or wink
as I feel the planet shift
beneath my feet
Jenny won’t let herself notice
yet the smell of the land changes
A cool breeze lifts the hair
on my arms leaf edges crisp
days are hot evenings mellow
children race their last before school
and my nose twitches to catch the first
faint whiff of autumn bonfires
UNDER THE EAVES
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones
a window screen rattles
gray air stirs
with a soft black brush
Wings beat
frantic
voice skreaks in waves
Migrating bat
tries to find
her new home
___________________
Thanks, Patricia! My apologies, though, to both her and Taylor Graham (see yesterday) for my failure to indent—HTML has me bumfuzzled. (In Patricia's bat poem, envision the middle line of each stanza moved slightly in...)
—Medusa (skreak skreak skreak—I love that word! Skritching and skreaking...)
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Wee Nips from West Nile
WEST NILE
—Taylor Graham, Somerset
They’re spraying
for the public health.
They tell us to stay indoors,
bring in our pets. But
not to worry. It only kills
the bugs that bear disease
from a place so far away,
on mosquitos. At dusk,
in a single night.
__________________
Okay, I confess. I have an agenda, here, about this current messing with the ecosystem. At least I'm not alone— Thanks, TG! Her muse was well-stirred.
The birth of Snake 7 continues; hard labor and the usual scurry to get hot water and plenty of towels. Ouch ouch! Everybody breathe... BL Kennedy outdid himself this time with his own 418 BL Buzz and scads of mini-reviews, plus commandeering the lovely and talented Charlene Ungstad to write a couple more. (Henceforth, Snake 7 will be known as "The Review Issue".) But that's a good thing, not only because BL is such a hard worker and supporter of the Snake, but because I happen to think reviews are very important in an industry where it's so hard to get out the word about books in print—especially all those wee gems that slip under the radar of the traditional press.
BL, by the way, is hosting his Urban Voices series tonight at South Natomas Library on Truxel Road, 7-8pm: Barbara Noble and Suzanne Roberts, a poet from Tahoe.
Have a good day: be safe and write lots (and send me your poems!).
—Medusa (ouch ouch! more hot water!)
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
—Taylor Graham, Somerset
They’re spraying
for the public health.
They tell us to stay indoors,
bring in our pets. But
not to worry. It only kills
the bugs that bear disease
from a place so far away,
only wings
could reach. Mosquitos.Swallows that sweep
above an August pond, feedingon mosquitos. At dusk,
the bats that zap
mosquitos by the thousandsin a single night.
This evening
we spray death.__________________
Okay, I confess. I have an agenda, here, about this current messing with the ecosystem. At least I'm not alone— Thanks, TG! Her muse was well-stirred.
The birth of Snake 7 continues; hard labor and the usual scurry to get hot water and plenty of towels. Ouch ouch! Everybody breathe... BL Kennedy outdid himself this time with his own 418 BL Buzz and scads of mini-reviews, plus commandeering the lovely and talented Charlene Ungstad to write a couple more. (Henceforth, Snake 7 will be known as "The Review Issue".) But that's a good thing, not only because BL is such a hard worker and supporter of the Snake, but because I happen to think reviews are very important in an industry where it's so hard to get out the word about books in print—especially all those wee gems that slip under the radar of the traditional press.
BL, by the way, is hosting his Urban Voices series tonight at South Natomas Library on Truxel Road, 7-8pm: Barbara Noble and Suzanne Roberts, a poet from Tahoe.
Have a good day: be safe and write lots (and send me your poems!).
—Medusa (ouch ouch! more hot water!)
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Indigo on Thursday
Indigo Moor will be featured at Luna's (1414 16th St., Sac, 8pm) this Thursday. Here's a sample:
NOMADS
—Indigo Moor
For six days we purify metal,
Vulcan's children, sleepwalking
through sulfur clouds. A few pennies
forged for every muscled clang
of pig iron and rust. Friday’s whistle,
our Pavlovian call to bedlam,
triggers us down to dogs.
Loose drunk all Saturday, we hang
our checks on new shoes, silk ties,
and gold chains. Scrub iron ore
from our fingers, coke dust from faces
before slow fading from day to night.
A bottle of gin passes between us
as we stiff leg and hip drop a pimp
down the boulevard. We tug our hats
down until our faces are curved horizons
with brown, felt suns rising askew.
Somewhere in this city
there is music worth killing for:
manna soaked in bourbon
grilled over hot Mississippi coals.
The Easy Lion Jazz Joint
leans toward us and winks.
The intoxicating vibration
of wood-stomp and tremor-slide.
A quartet of horns, a string bass,
and skins jerks us into dance—
freezes us into stained glass hunger.
This is our siren song:
Bass so cold it shatters hot breath.
The sax man's vibrato wrenches
fevered moans from our bodies.
Sways us into cattails wrapped
in silk and sweat. Given the chance,
spit-shined leather begins to fly.
Two more juke joints before sunrise.
A plate of ribs and a whiskey sour.
Sunday morning is a hangover
hard as an I-beam laid into our heads.
All too soon, the factory whistle.
___________________________
Thanks, Indigo! Indigo has returned to us from many poetry adventures/readings/awards in New England and elsewhere.
In other adventures: Former Sacramentan Be Davison Herrera writes: Jack and I did a COMET&STAR (poetry and flute, clarinet) at a Voices of War event feature at Oregon State University and hosted a performance event for the [Sacramento poets] StraightOut Scribes ( Staajabu and V.S. Chochezi) as one stop on their 2005 USA Tour at the local Borders Books in Corvallis, with 45 attendees. We were part of the "4th Sunday at 4" music series at the Episcopal Church of the Good Samaritan here in Corvallis. We did a quickie at the River Gallery "Women Go Wild" events in Independence, Oregon, and I came in fifth at the DaVinci Days Festival poetry slam reading—an homage to Johnny Cash!
Good to see that Be is staying active after her move to Corvallis!
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
NOMADS
—Indigo Moor
For six days we purify metal,
Vulcan's children, sleepwalking
through sulfur clouds. A few pennies
forged for every muscled clang
of pig iron and rust. Friday’s whistle,
our Pavlovian call to bedlam,
triggers us down to dogs.
Loose drunk all Saturday, we hang
our checks on new shoes, silk ties,
and gold chains. Scrub iron ore
from our fingers, coke dust from faces
before slow fading from day to night.
A bottle of gin passes between us
as we stiff leg and hip drop a pimp
down the boulevard. We tug our hats
down until our faces are curved horizons
with brown, felt suns rising askew.
Somewhere in this city
there is music worth killing for:
manna soaked in bourbon
grilled over hot Mississippi coals.
The Easy Lion Jazz Joint
leans toward us and winks.
The intoxicating vibration
of wood-stomp and tremor-slide.
A quartet of horns, a string bass,
and skins jerks us into dance—
freezes us into stained glass hunger.
This is our siren song:
Bass so cold it shatters hot breath.
The sax man's vibrato wrenches
fevered moans from our bodies.
Sways us into cattails wrapped
in silk and sweat. Given the chance,
spit-shined leather begins to fly.
Two more juke joints before sunrise.
A plate of ribs and a whiskey sour.
Sunday morning is a hangover
hard as an I-beam laid into our heads.
All too soon, the factory whistle.
___________________________
Thanks, Indigo! Indigo has returned to us from many poetry adventures/readings/awards in New England and elsewhere.
In other adventures: Former Sacramentan Be Davison Herrera writes: Jack and I did a COMET&STAR (poetry and flute, clarinet) at a Voices of War event feature at Oregon State University and hosted a performance event for the [Sacramento poets] StraightOut Scribes ( Staajabu and V.S. Chochezi) as one stop on their 2005 USA Tour at the local Borders Books in Corvallis, with 45 attendees. We were part of the "4th Sunday at 4" music series at the Episcopal Church of the Good Samaritan here in Corvallis. We did a quickie at the River Gallery "Women Go Wild" events in Independence, Oregon, and I came in fifth at the DaVinci Days Festival poetry slam reading—an homage to Johnny Cash!
Good to see that Be is staying active after her move to Corvallis!
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Bats and Bees and the Typing of Snakes
CLAUSTROPHOBIA IN CHECHEM-HA
—Lynn M. Hansen, Modesto
My fear is of no concern to the Fer-de-Lance
the bat, the arachnid, Mayan pottery or the dead.
This cave is home, hidden by green vines
bathed in filtered rainforest light.
Thin tongues flick out in the darkness
sensing warm prey. Winged mice navigate,
use echoes from high pitched screams to hunt.
Long tactile legs of whip scorpions extend
over rocky walls, searching for insects.
Silent pottery sits on shallow ledges,
above ancestral bones lying near
altar for Mayan sacred ceremonies.
I stand frozen in the darkness,
paralyzed by fear of small spaces.
Tiny drops of water carry cargo of minerals,
form stalactites, stalagmites, narrow corridors
that do not block the flow of cool moist air;
snakes, bats, arthropods, spelunkers
enjoy this underground labyrinth.
I cannot breathe;
someone is standing on my chest.
____________________
Somehow, Lynn knew I was looking for a bat poem to further my grieving of the impact the current mosquito removal will have on the environment. Thanks, Lynn!
And Joyce Odam has been archiving Medusa, printing out each and every posting and putting it into a fancy white binder. O Joyce, thank you—for that and for passing on this wonderful Amy Lowell poem:
CARREFOUR
—Amy Lowell
O you,
Who came upon me once
Stretched under apple-trees just after bathing,
Why did you not strangle me before speaking
Rather than fill me with the wild white honey of your words
And then leave me to the mercy
Of the forest bees.
____________________
Don't forget Brad Buchanan's reading tonight at HQ (25th & R, Sac.), 7:30pm.
And today begins the type-a-thon that is Snake 7; if you haven't sent anything in yet, do it NOW!
—Medusa (who awaits the wild white honey of your words...)
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
—Lynn M. Hansen, Modesto
My fear is of no concern to the Fer-de-Lance
the bat, the arachnid, Mayan pottery or the dead.
This cave is home, hidden by green vines
bathed in filtered rainforest light.
Thin tongues flick out in the darkness
sensing warm prey. Winged mice navigate,
use echoes from high pitched screams to hunt.
Long tactile legs of whip scorpions extend
over rocky walls, searching for insects.
Silent pottery sits on shallow ledges,
above ancestral bones lying near
altar for Mayan sacred ceremonies.
I stand frozen in the darkness,
paralyzed by fear of small spaces.
Tiny drops of water carry cargo of minerals,
form stalactites, stalagmites, narrow corridors
that do not block the flow of cool moist air;
snakes, bats, arthropods, spelunkers
enjoy this underground labyrinth.
I cannot breathe;
someone is standing on my chest.
____________________
Somehow, Lynn knew I was looking for a bat poem to further my grieving of the impact the current mosquito removal will have on the environment. Thanks, Lynn!
And Joyce Odam has been archiving Medusa, printing out each and every posting and putting it into a fancy white binder. O Joyce, thank you—for that and for passing on this wonderful Amy Lowell poem:
CARREFOUR
—Amy Lowell
O you,
Who came upon me once
Stretched under apple-trees just after bathing,
Why did you not strangle me before speaking
Rather than fill me with the wild white honey of your words
And then leave me to the mercy
Of the forest bees.
____________________
Don't forget Brad Buchanan's reading tonight at HQ (25th & R, Sac.), 7:30pm.
And today begins the type-a-thon that is Snake 7; if you haven't sent anything in yet, do it NOW!
—Medusa (who awaits the wild white honey of your words...)
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Just Poetry, Five: D.H. Lawrence
ON THE BALCONY
—D.H. Lawrence
In front of the sombre mountains, a faint, lost ribbon of rainbow,
And between us and it, the thunder;
And down below in the green wheat, the labourers
Stand like dark stumps, still in the green wheat.
You are near to me, and your naked feet in their sandals,
And through the scent of the balcony's naked timber
I distinguish the scent of your hair: so now the limber
Lightning falls from heaven.
Adown the pale green river glacier floats
A dark boat through the gloom—and whither?
The thunder roars. But still we have each other!
The naked lightnings in the heavens dither
And disappear—what have we but each other?
The boat has gone.
______________________
AWARE
—D.H. Lawrence
Slowly the moon is rising out of the muddy haze,
Divesting herself of her golden shift, and so
Emerging white and exquisite; and I in amaze
See in the sky before me, a woman I did not know
I loved, but there she goes, and her beauty hurts my heart;
I follow her down the night, begging her not to depart.
______________________
MOONRISE
—D.H. Lawrence
And who has seen the moon, who has not seen
Her rise from out of the chamber of the deep,
Flushed and grand and naked, as from the chamber
Of finished bridegroom, seen her rise and throw
Confession of delight upon the wave,
Littering the waves with her own superscription
Of blliss, till all her lambent beauty shakes towards us
Spread out and known at last, and we are sure
That beauty is a thing beyond the grave,
That perfect, bright experience never falls
To nothingness, and time will dim the moon
Sooner than our full consummation here
In this odd life will tarnish or pass away.
__________________
Thanks, D.H. (What IS your first name, anyway?) Personally, of course, Medusa loves his Snake best...
Tomorrow is the deadline for submissions to Rattlesnake Review #7—see yesterday's post for details. Carpe Viperidae—Seize the Snake!
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
—D.H. Lawrence
In front of the sombre mountains, a faint, lost ribbon of rainbow,
And between us and it, the thunder;
And down below in the green wheat, the labourers
Stand like dark stumps, still in the green wheat.
You are near to me, and your naked feet in their sandals,
And through the scent of the balcony's naked timber
I distinguish the scent of your hair: so now the limber
Lightning falls from heaven.
Adown the pale green river glacier floats
A dark boat through the gloom—and whither?
The thunder roars. But still we have each other!
The naked lightnings in the heavens dither
And disappear—what have we but each other?
The boat has gone.
______________________
AWARE
—D.H. Lawrence
Slowly the moon is rising out of the muddy haze,
Divesting herself of her golden shift, and so
Emerging white and exquisite; and I in amaze
See in the sky before me, a woman I did not know
I loved, but there she goes, and her beauty hurts my heart;
I follow her down the night, begging her not to depart.
______________________
MOONRISE
—D.H. Lawrence
And who has seen the moon, who has not seen
Her rise from out of the chamber of the deep,
Flushed and grand and naked, as from the chamber
Of finished bridegroom, seen her rise and throw
Confession of delight upon the wave,
Littering the waves with her own superscription
Of blliss, till all her lambent beauty shakes towards us
Spread out and known at last, and we are sure
That beauty is a thing beyond the grave,
That perfect, bright experience never falls
To nothingness, and time will dim the moon
Sooner than our full consummation here
In this odd life will tarnish or pass away.
__________________
Thanks, D.H. (What IS your first name, anyway?) Personally, of course, Medusa loves his Snake best...
Tomorrow is the deadline for submissions to Rattlesnake Review #7—see yesterday's post for details. Carpe Viperidae—Seize the Snake!
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Are we hot, or what?
THE PRIEST OF FLOWERS
—Susan Kelly-DeWitt
Let him fly like a dark bird across the waters
bringing oil and wafers. Let him swoop down
over the endless fields of Being,
searching for the souls of lost flowers.
Let him arrive swinging his censer
to perfume the last rites.
____________________
Thanks, Susan!
Readings in town every day this coming week—are we hot, or what? And who says our poetry scene slows down for summer?!
•Monday: Brad Buchanan will read at HQ (25th and R, Sac.) for Sac. Poetry Center, 7:30pm. See previous postings for samples of his poetry.
•Tuesday: Third Tuesday Poetry Series will present Jean Vengua (writer/researcher/teacher at UC Berkeley in Filipino-American studies) and Fausto Avendano (CSUS professor of Hispanic Literature) at La Raza/Galeria Posada, 1421 R St., Sac., 7:30pm.
•Wednesday: Urban Voices at South Natomas library, 2901 Truxel Rd., Sac.: Barbara Noble from Sacramento and Suzanne Roberts from Tahoe, 7pm.
•Thursday: Indigo Moor at Poetry Unplugged, Luna's, 1414 16th, Sac., 8pm.
•Friday: Escritores del Nuevo Sol presents Susan Hennies and Joe Finkleman with musical accompaniment by Francesca Reitano on Native American flute and Mark Halverson on percussion. La Raza/Galeria Posada, 15th & R, Sac., 7:30pm. $5.
•Saturday: Nevada County Poetry Series: Cowboy Poetry, 7:30pm. Center for the Arts, 314 W. Main St., Grass Valley. Info: 432-8196. $5.
•And watch for more info about California Poet Laureate Al Young being at the California State Fair on Saturday, August 20.
More about some of these as the week progresses. And don't forget the Poems-for-All reading tonight at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac., 7:30: Frank Andrick, Michelle Tea, Rachel Savage and Rachel Leibrock.
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
—Susan Kelly-DeWitt
Let him fly like a dark bird across the waters
bringing oil and wafers. Let him swoop down
over the endless fields of Being,
searching for the souls of lost flowers.
Let him arrive swinging his censer
to perfume the last rites.
____________________
Thanks, Susan!
Readings in town every day this coming week—are we hot, or what? And who says our poetry scene slows down for summer?!
•Monday: Brad Buchanan will read at HQ (25th and R, Sac.) for Sac. Poetry Center, 7:30pm. See previous postings for samples of his poetry.
•Tuesday: Third Tuesday Poetry Series will present Jean Vengua (writer/researcher/teacher at UC Berkeley in Filipino-American studies) and Fausto Avendano (CSUS professor of Hispanic Literature) at La Raza/Galeria Posada, 1421 R St., Sac., 7:30pm.
•Wednesday: Urban Voices at South Natomas library, 2901 Truxel Rd., Sac.: Barbara Noble from Sacramento and Suzanne Roberts from Tahoe, 7pm.
•Thursday: Indigo Moor at Poetry Unplugged, Luna's, 1414 16th, Sac., 8pm.
•Friday: Escritores del Nuevo Sol presents Susan Hennies and Joe Finkleman with musical accompaniment by Francesca Reitano on Native American flute and Mark Halverson on percussion. La Raza/Galeria Posada, 15th & R, Sac., 7:30pm. $5.
•Saturday: Nevada County Poetry Series: Cowboy Poetry, 7:30pm. Center for the Arts, 314 W. Main St., Grass Valley. Info: 432-8196. $5.
•And watch for more info about California Poet Laureate Al Young being at the California State Fair on Saturday, August 20.
More about some of these as the week progresses. And don't forget the Poems-for-All reading tonight at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac., 7:30: Frank Andrick, Michelle Tea, Rachel Savage and Rachel Leibrock.
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Doubling the Staff!
Monday (8/15) is the next deadline for Rattlesnake Review. Send 3-5 poems by snail (4708 Tree Shadow Place, Fair Oaks, 95628) or e-mail (kathykieth@hotmail.com). No cover letters/bios, no simul-subs, no previously-pubs. The Snake also publishes artwork and photographs, too; send 'em along!
I've been thinking a lot about the Review this summer, and a lot of new features have been born. Far be it from that lazy Medusa to do any work, though—so I've hired four more columnists to contribute regular articles in specific areas. To wit:
• Marketeer-in-Residence KATY BROWN: We don't know if there even IS such a word, but it seemed like a good one to label Katy as she writes her new column, "Snake-Charmer's Bazaar: Poems in the Marketplace". Katy will continue to explore all the ins and outs of publishing: venues, etiquette, how-to's... Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
• Formalist-in-Residence JOYCE ODAM: The irrepressible Joyce O will pass on some of her vast knowledge of forms and how to use them in your own work in her new column, "About Form—Form Vs. Formal". Joyce has a special knack for making these tools seem accessible and useful and even fun.
• Interviewer-in-Residence JOANN ANGLIN: I consider interviews to be a hugely important part of poetry journalism, capturing the essence of people on paper for future generations and giving us a glimpse into who they are and how they work. JoAnn is a skillful, experienced interviewer who will join us, starting with the December issue.
• Something-or-Other-in-Residence Who Helps Us Find New Poems By Suggesting Possible Triggering Devices TAYLOR GRAHAM: We haven't come up with a name yet for this position, but Taylor is a skillful teacher who works with her Pony Espresso Poets/Tuesday at Two people in Pollock Pines on a weekly basis, giving them poetry "triggers" to get them started. Together, this group will be passing on these triggers and examples to help us get rolling on those grey days when the muse eludes us...
Also new in Snake 7 will be littlesnake's Poetry Puzzles for Big and Little Kids (a kid's page) and Medusa's Meanderings: Gossip from the Gorgon, which will list readings and other events—plus whatever else Medusa comes up with (or you send her) in her dementia, a la Medusa's Kitchen.
All these wonderful people will join our staff, which includes Robbie Grossklaus (Asst. Wranger), Sam Kieth (Artist-in-Residence), and B.L. Kennedy (Reviewer-in-Residence)—all of whom are such wonderful help to me and continue to be my mainstays.
And there may be even more new features! Keep tuning in to see whatever other nonsense evolves on this speeding train of ours...
Let's close with a little D.H. Lawrence:
GREEN
—D.H. Lawrence
The dawn was apple-green,
The sky was green wine held up in the sun,
The moon was a golden petal between.
She opened her eyes, and green
They shone, clear like flowers undone
For the first time, now for the first time seen.
__________________
—Medusa
I've been thinking a lot about the Review this summer, and a lot of new features have been born. Far be it from that lazy Medusa to do any work, though—so I've hired four more columnists to contribute regular articles in specific areas. To wit:
• Marketeer-in-Residence KATY BROWN: We don't know if there even IS such a word, but it seemed like a good one to label Katy as she writes her new column, "Snake-Charmer's Bazaar: Poems in the Marketplace". Katy will continue to explore all the ins and outs of publishing: venues, etiquette, how-to's... Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
• Formalist-in-Residence JOYCE ODAM: The irrepressible Joyce O will pass on some of her vast knowledge of forms and how to use them in your own work in her new column, "About Form—Form Vs. Formal". Joyce has a special knack for making these tools seem accessible and useful and even fun.
• Interviewer-in-Residence JOANN ANGLIN: I consider interviews to be a hugely important part of poetry journalism, capturing the essence of people on paper for future generations and giving us a glimpse into who they are and how they work. JoAnn is a skillful, experienced interviewer who will join us, starting with the December issue.
• Something-or-Other-in-Residence Who Helps Us Find New Poems By Suggesting Possible Triggering Devices TAYLOR GRAHAM: We haven't come up with a name yet for this position, but Taylor is a skillful teacher who works with her Pony Espresso Poets/Tuesday at Two people in Pollock Pines on a weekly basis, giving them poetry "triggers" to get them started. Together, this group will be passing on these triggers and examples to help us get rolling on those grey days when the muse eludes us...
Also new in Snake 7 will be littlesnake's Poetry Puzzles for Big and Little Kids (a kid's page) and Medusa's Meanderings: Gossip from the Gorgon, which will list readings and other events—plus whatever else Medusa comes up with (or you send her) in her dementia, a la Medusa's Kitchen.
All these wonderful people will join our staff, which includes Robbie Grossklaus (Asst. Wranger), Sam Kieth (Artist-in-Residence), and B.L. Kennedy (Reviewer-in-Residence)—all of whom are such wonderful help to me and continue to be my mainstays.
And there may be even more new features! Keep tuning in to see whatever other nonsense evolves on this speeding train of ours...
Let's close with a little D.H. Lawrence:
GREEN
—D.H. Lawrence
The dawn was apple-green,
The sky was green wine held up in the sun,
The moon was a golden petal between.
She opened her eyes, and green
They shone, clear like flowers undone
For the first time, now for the first time seen.
__________________
—Medusa
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