PRISON WORKSONGS ALL DAY ~

 

℗ 1997 Smithsonian Folkways Recordings. Originally released on Arhoolie Records.

WHITE COUNTRY BLUES ALL DAY ~

 

BLIND WILLIE MCTELL ALL DAY ~

 

℗ Originally Released 1934 SONY BMG MUSIC ENTERTAINMENT

LIL' SON JACKSON ALL DAY ~

 

    Arhoolie Records

MEMPHIS MINNIE ALL DAY ~

 

Hoodoo Lady (1933-1937)

FAREWELL ~

 

R O B E R T   D U V A L L

F R E D E R I C K   W I S E M A N

      Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

         Caitlin Ochs for The New York Times

ANNA MALIHON ~

 

A Tale of Burnt Skin

carry me through the forest in your throat

there in the dark blue grass ants crawl over yellow bones

and bright sweet strawberries grow among corpses spilling a sweet smell

but let me collect the wild strawberries

God I really want to stay alive

don't breathe don't speak

you are the girl who tamed the Steppenwolf

didn't they tell you that you shouldn't burn skin

bitch where is your red scalp go remove his sticky promises

on the black twisted trunks by bygone trees

couldn't you wake him when he fell asleep with gum in his mouth

for it was already the apocalypse

now take a jar and strain your poisoned milk

over your cold first born

the one who doesn't know the way never gets lost

I carved maps on your back when I started to come

and kept the scars for myself

let them not judge those who were sentenced to death let them judge me

your venous arterial one . . .

lose me lost I am so tired of going back . . .

somewhere in a magical kingdom there lived a boy with a dimple in his chin

with a crater in his chest

with insects on his head: one half of the world — for mother

the other half — for father

he played the flute  put birds in a box

but from his music wild berries sprouted

something quiet and unnoticeable like the creation of dust

happens in the hours when you let me go

the rain finally becomes rain and happily soaks into the earth

the sand cleverly stirs and grasps shoes in its lips

a wolf embroidered in cross-stitch is nailed above the bed for protection

until the time I am jarred awake again

carry me through the forest

the music broke out beat rustled

better never-ending music came from birds' eyes

in the blockaded space

and the one who initiated it

couldn't stop the blood

_________________________

Anna Malihon

Girl With A Bullet

translated from Ukrainian by Olena Jennings

World Poetry 2025

ZANZIBARA TONIGHT ~

 

    2005

PETER HANDKE ~

R E A D   M E 

       Farrar, Straus, Giroux 

     2025

JOHNNY CASH ~ THE MAN IN BLACK ~

 

          HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHNNY CASH

Johnny Cash, A fly-on-the-wall account that follows the near-legendary singer on tour in the USA during the late sixties. Crammed with superb music footage the film also takes time out to relax with the man behind the most famous voice in Country music.

HISPANIC TRADITIONS TONIGHT ~

 

        Smithsonian Folkways 1992

MEMORIES THAT SMELL LIKE GASOLINE ~

 

R E A D   M E

       new edition ~

      Nightboat Books 2025

JOSEPHINE FOSTER TONIGHT ~

 

     Locust Music

      2006

FRANK STANFORD ~

 

R E A D   M E

      University of Arkansas Press

      2025

U. UTAH PHILLIPS TONIGHT ~

 

℗ 1992 AK Press

HANS MAGNUS ENZENSBERGER ~

 

s h a d o w  &  r e a l m

i

here even now i see a place,

a free place,

here in the shadow.

ii

this shadow

is not for sale.

iii

the sea too

casts a shadow perhaps,

and so does time.

iv

the wars of shadows

are games:

no shadow

stands in another's light.

v

those who live in the shadow

are difficult to kill.

vi

for awhile

i step out of my shadow,

for a while.

vii

those who want to see light

as it is

must retire

into the shadow.

viii

shadow

brighter than the sun:

cool shadow of freedom.

ix

completely in the shadow

my shadow disappears.

x

in the shadow

even now there is room.

____________________________________

HANS MAGNUS ENZENSBERGER

translated by Michael Hamburger

poems for people who don't read poems

Atheneum 1968

HEATHER MALONEY TONIGHT ~

 

   Signature Sounds

  2025

PATRICIA SMITH ~

 

A Poem for the Man Who Shot My Father

I don't know where you are now,

so for the purposes of this poem

I will imagine you are dead.

The circumstances of your death

should be ironic.  A bullet smashes into

the back of your skull. A bullet

smashes into the back

of your skull.  A bullet smashes

into the back

of your skull.

A coincidence.

For the purposes of this poem, but only

for the purposes

of this poem,

I will imagine you in a hell

where you are scraped and torched

each second, every second,

and you feel it all,

you feel everything.

For the purposes of this poem

I would like you to describe

my father's face

the moment he turned

and saw you

                wild-eyed and thirsty

the moment he knew

the moment before he turned away

to run

And for the purposes

of this poem, I hold

that picture in my head.  I will live

over

and

over

that look of an animal dazed

in the headlights

because, even though

I have imagined you dead,

you are probably not too dead to remember

that there is a hell

here too.

_____________________

Patricia Smith

The Intentions of Thunder

New and Selected Poems

Scribner, 2025

JOHN FRUSCIANTE TONIGHT ~

 

℗ 2001 Warner Records Inc. Assistant Mix Engineer Mixer: Brian Grimmel Mixer: Jimmy Boyle Performed By: John Frusciante Producer, Vocals: John Frusciante Masterer: Vlado Meller Writer: John Frusciante

ARVIND KRISHNA MEHROTRA ~

 

House of Peeling Walls

I leave this house to the birds in the birdbath

To the leaves that float down like feathers from the sky

To the Lakhori brick I hold in my hand

To the black ants that live inside the walls

To their ears that hear thunder before there's thunder to be heard

To the irises that climb over stones when they get in the way

To the shingles that came down rivers when there were rivers

To the flowering clover that spreads like fire

To the buttress root that uprooted the garden shed

To the dawn that widens the crack in its road when light seeps in

To the bougainvillea twigs thorning the ground I step on

To the woodpile stacked against a leaning wall

To the new leaves of March that arrive with a cracker burst

To the rose vine that doesn't know where to stop

To the water in the iron bucket

To the squirrel that darts round the corner of a medium-sized country

______________________________

ARVIND KRISHNA MEHROTRA

Of Least Concern

Centre for the Creative and the Critcal

2025

                             

THE KLEZMATICS MEET WOODY GUTHRIE TONIGHT ~

 

     2006

A PLACE OF RAGE ~

 

    1991

SUN RA THRU THE NIGHT ~

 

Volume One: RLA Sound Studios, NYC, April 20, 1965 Volume Two & Three: RLA Sound Studios, NYC, November 16, 1965. Marshall Allen described the recording of the album in John F Szwed's biography of Ra, Space Is The Place; "Sun Ra would go to the studio and he would play something, the bass would come in, and if he didn't like it he'd stop it; and he'd give the drummer a particular rhythm, tell the bass he wanted not a 'boom boom boom,' but something else, and then he'd begin to try out the horns, we're all standing there wondering what's next... "I just picked up the piccolo and worked with what was going on, what mood they set, or what feeling they had. A lot of things we'd be rehearsing and we did the wrong things and Sun Ra stopped the arrangement and changed it. Or he would change the person who was playing the particular solo, so that changes the arrangement. So the one that was soloing would get another part given to him personally. 'Cos he knew people. He could understand what you could do better so he would fit that with what he would tell you." Marshall Allen

NELLY SACHS AN ILLUSTRATED BIOGRAPHY ~

 

N E L L Y   S A C H S

     Stanford University Press

     2011

PETER MATTHIESSEN ~

 

R E A D   M E

    Pantheon

    2025

THE RESIDENTS TONIGHT ~

 

       Cherry Red Records

       2025

THIS LITTLE ART (THE ART OF TRANSLATION) ~

 

R E A D   M E

      Fitzcarraldo Editions

      2024

NINE INCH NAILS TONIGHT ~

 

    Interscope

    2004

SILAS HOUSE ~

Northern Lights

I longed for you before I knew

you; that's what I always think

when something like this happens.

I never dreamt I would see them,

especially from my own back porch

right here in Kentucky.  But there

they are.  The richest purple, glowing

green, the blush of them,

an undulating mystery

as abstract as the enigma that brings

two people into the same orbit.

Here we are, watching them, together,

and we always will be, even when

we are nothing more than sky.

____________________

Silas House

All These Ghosts

Blair, 2025

THE DEAD C. TONIGHT ~

 

     2006

JOHN MUIR ~

 

R E A D   M E

    Nebraska

    2024

WANG YIN ~

 

Lover

We have reached the open sea, my love,

the shore lights extinguished

seahorse flutes sweet and lilting

We have reached the open sea

I open the urn

scatter you

little pieces of you

falling more slowly than powder

obliquely onto the water

I scatter all of you

You turn the sea faintly red

You calm the waters

just as when you were alive and

midnight snow's fell upon

our open hands

I give you the sky

give you the sea

I give it all to you     all to you

I take the urn that held you

hold it to my breast

I put myself inside the urn that held you

I am now in your dreams

1987-88

_________________________________

Wang Yin

A Summer Day in the

Company of Ghosts

translated by Andrea Lingenfelter

NYRB 2022