Tuesday, March 31, 2020
MIROSLAV HOLUB ~
Dreams
They sap man’s substance
as moon the dew.
A rope grows erect
from the crown of the head.
A black swan hatches
from a pebble.
And a flock of angels in the sky
is taking an evening class
on the skid pan.
I dream, so I dream.
I dream
that three times three is nine,
that the right-hand
rule applies;
and when the circus leaves
the trampled ground will
once more overgrow with grass.
Yes, grass.
Unequivocal grass.
Just grass.
______________________
Miroslav Holub
Poems Before & After
Bloodaxe Books
Monday, March 30, 2020
YOKEL ( 25 ) ~
Come Closer
Once long ago in old Vermont
We stopped the car on a mud road
Into a village to ask directions from
Anyone we could find, and while you waited
In the car I went and stepped into a store, barely lit
And so dark and cavernous it seemed early-Spring-bear-like
As I finally saw a figure sitting in a rocking chair, a man,
And he asked out of the darkness how he might help
I’ll never forget that time nor that man, and of course
I have completely forgotten the name or place on the map
But it was real
Because —
A few years later, in the peach of summer, closer to home and
Again on an old road we stopped for directions, and this
Time I entered a hilltop farmhouse and could hear someone
Beckon to me to come closer down this sun dusty hallway
With the palest afternoon light, and by a corner woodstove
Sat a very old and rickety wood built man, ancient as the
Plaster walls, and he asked what he could do for me
Imagine!
When I stepped back out the door I saw the maple trees dark
Leafed, trapping summertime in their bonnets — while broad
Fields went to upper pastures shadowy lush and holding on
Holding on
for Richard Levasseur
After Chores
It’s just like her —
that small dish
of scented soap
at the big cast iron
kitchen farm sink
for smaller hands
Info
unshaved
bib overalls
grubby cap
in the fancy deli
for a pizza slice
sits with tourists
he once sawmilled
boards for me and I
haven't seen him in years
I said hello how you been are
you taking a break?
a break from what?
from work
I don’t know...are
you taking a break?
yup
from what?
from work
Bob Arnold
Yokel
Longhouse
2011
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Saturday, March 28, 2020
ROBERT DUNCAN ~
Roots and Branches
Sail, Monarchs, rising and falling
orange merchants in spring's flowery markets!
messengers of March in warm currents of news floating,
flitting into areas of aroma.
tracing out of air unseen roots and branches of sense
I share in thought,
filaments woven and broken where the world might light
casual certainties of me. There are
echoes of what I am in what you perform
this morning. How you perfect my spirit!
almost restore
an imaginary tree of the living in all its doctrines
by fluttering about,
intent and easy as you are, the profusion of you!
awakening transports of an inner view of things.
__________________
Robert Duncan
The Collected Later Poems and Plays
edited with an introduction by Peter Quartermain
U Cal Press, 2019
Put your good hands into the good hands of Peter Quartermain's
guidance through the later world of Duncan, fertile ground
Friday, March 27, 2020
FAIL SAFE ~
BOHUMIL HRABAL ~
My favorite of all Hrabal books
Whenever I want to go to masters of the
very short text (or the longest)
I head to eastern Europe ~~~
whether Peter Handke and his gemstone
A Sorrow Beyond Dreams
or here with Bohumil Hrabal's
All My Cats
read astonished
Thursday, March 26, 2020
SCENES WITH PHILIP WHALEN ~
This is the design, cover photograph, and overall
Philip Whalen while alive book I fell for
over 50 years and I still hold it close to my heart.
I'm more than grateful that the good folks at Wave Books
have reissued the masterpiece, with this cover photo
as frontispiece at least, and an afterword
by David Brazil.
(Wave Books, 2020)
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
ANNE SEXTON ~
Jesus Cooks
Jesus saw the multitudes were hungry
and He said, Oh Lord,
send down a short-order cook.
And the Lord said, Abracadabra.
Jesus took the fish,
a slim green baby,
in His right hand and said, Oh Lord,
and the Lord said,
Work on the sly
opening boxes of sardine cans.
And he did.
Fisherman, fisherman,
you make it look easy.
And lo, there were many fish.
Next Jesus held up a loaf
and said, Oh Lord,
and the Lord instructed Him
like an assembly-line baker man,
a Pied Piper of yeast,
and lo, there were many.
Jesus passed among the people
in a chef's hat
and they kissed His spoons and forks
and ate well from invisible dishes.
____________________
Anne Sexton
The Book of Folly
Houghton Mifflin
1972
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
LIU TSUNG-YUAN ~
R E A D M E
Miscellany Presented In Reply To
Scholar Lou About To Leave For Huainan
I was sent far away to enjoy life alone
who would have guessed I would meet an old friend
taking pity on broken wings with kind words
soothing ragged fins with life-saving water
our feelings as colleagues haven't changed
but the joys of companionship are new
wandering without a goal wasting time
immune to the pains of spring dancing drunk
even if the pleasures of wind and moon have ceased
the stars and frost we've shared has brought us closer
treating fame as a calamity
we chose the Tao for our neighbor
our schemes were roof tiles in a storm
our suspicions simply misperceptions
wearing an official's hat I still write poems
despite your poverty you still carry a sword
suddenly our parting is today
this happy time won't come again
what is it that's dragging you off
my spirit is leaving with you on the river
I'll have to console my shadow on this side of Heaven
what can I do on that stream to the west
what can I do alone but go fishing
_________________
Liu Tsung-Yuan
translated by Red Pine
Written in Exile
Copper Canyon Books
translated by Red Pine
Written in Exile
Copper Canyon Books
Monday, March 23, 2020
YOKEL ( 24 ) ~
Parallax
Two carpenters
Rebuild the church steeple
for Greg Joly
Farmer
A beautiful pickup truck with the fanciest side mirrors
on both doors. It seemed like 3D. This is the truck the
heavy set worker arrived in. The t-shirt was gray and
molded over a barrel chest and double barrel gut. The
arms the size of my thighs. Something happened along
the years because he couldn’t hide the limp. He was
coming to measure up a wood pellet furnace. I could
tell he didn’t know all that much about the furnace
except he burned pellets in his own wood pellet stove.
He knew the pellets were shipped to the northeast
from the Rockies, Pennsylvania and somewheres in
Canada. Canada always gets a “somewheres”. It’s a big
place. Since he didn’t know much about pellets, and
his body was a steady worker’s, I asked him what he
did before pellets. Farmer. One word sufficient. But
said with the great tongue of a cow so it sounded like
I suddenly loved the word more than ever.
He said he once had a farm called River Maple. And I
said my wife and I for thirty-five years have passed the
large barn sign for this place and always wondered why
it wasn’t Maple River. Well, which came first: the river or
the maple? he asked me. I said, The river — it feeds the
maples to grow. He smiled at that, as if his grandfather
who gave the farm this name once explained it to him
this way when he was a boy. Yes, he suddenly looked
boyish as we said goodbye when he left.
July in the Sun
We pick blueberries this way —
I wear jeans and t-shirt
you wear a pretty dress
the rest is easy
After the War
He’s hobbled around on one good leg and
The other fake leg for nearly forty years —
That’s what his government gave to him
No one could give him the tenacity to survive
He did that all on his own, plus with
A monthly pension paid by the same government
The best thing that ever happened, is how
He sized his injury up — a hard drinker’s grin
One leg for all these years paid income. Not bad!
He’s built his own spot in the woods
Does everything another seems to be able to do
Complete with junker cars, thrift clothes, a garden
And maybe she’s a wife or a girlfriend
But she looks very close to dying —
I didn’t have the heart to ask her story
______________
Bob Arnold
Yokel
Longhouse
2011
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