Monday, December 22, 2014


Joe Cocker
1944 (Sheffield, UK)
~ 2014 (Colorado)

joe cocker
woodstock festival 


The Evening Rests On My Brow

The evening rests on my brow.

Man, I still haven't heard you murmur

or heard your heart roar —

and yet is not your heart

Earth's deepest shell?

Listening for the ring of your joy.

I learned next to your fear and listened closely.

But your heart is dead and Earth forgotten.

Oh, how I imagined that tone —

the evening presses it coolly to my brow.

I Am Sad

Your kisses darken on my mouth —

you no longer love me.

But how you once came —

blue for paradise.

On your ecstatic fountain

my heart danced.

Now I must paint it,

like the ladies who redden

the withered rose of their loins.

Our half-closed eyes

are like dying heavens.

The moon grows ancient.

And the night no longer watches.

You barely remember me —

where then shall I take my heart?


But you never came with the evening —

I sat in a cape of stars.

When I heard someone knocking,

it was my own heart.


Now it hangs on every door post,

even yours —

among ferns a burnt-out fire-rose

in garland brown.

For you I stained heaven blackberry

with my own heart's blood.

But you never came with the evening —

I stood in golden shoes.


In every country I seek a city

with an angel standing at the gate.

I carry broken on my shoulder

his great heavy wing,

and in my forehead the seal of his star.

And endlessly I roam the night

bringing love to this world,  

that every heart may blossom blue.

All my wearying life I have watched,

darkly breathing, cloaked in God.

Oh God, pull your coat tighter!

I know I'm the lees in the goblet,

and when the last man pours out the world

You'll not let me slip through your might again —

a new globe of earth will encompass me.


E L S E    L A S K E R - S C H U L E R
translated from the German by Janine Canan

Star In My Forehead
Holy Cow! Press

Saturday, December 20, 2014


Whenever I go back to his work I consider Russell Lee the greatest photograph ever,
when there is no one great photographer ever, but Russell Lee is when I look his work over.

once in vermont films 2014  © bob arnold




Friday, December 19, 2014


"This morning our gun dropped about 270 pounds of ICM on a
smuggler's checkpoint ten kliks south of us. We took out a group
of insurgents and then we went to the Fallujah chow hall for 
lunch. I got fish and lima beans. I try to eat healthy."

from "Ten Kliks South"

Phil Klay
Penguin 2014

Thursday, December 18, 2014


Typewriter Art
A Modern Anthology
edited by Barrie Tullett
Laurence King Publishers, 2014

ee ~

"To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."
E  E     C  U  M  M  I  N  G  S

Wednesday, December 17, 2014


 Literchoor Is My Beat
a life of james laughlin
publisher of new directions
Farrar, 2014

Tuesday, December 16, 2014


Village on the southern slopes of the
High Atlas Mountains, Morocco
photo Ivo Grammet


C.S. Giscombe
Ohio Railroads
Omnidawn 2014