IMOGEN CUNNINGHAM (archive) ~

I M O G E N      C U N N I N G H A M

The Unmade Bed
Imogen Cunningham's father
Cunningham's parents
James Broughton
Frida Kahlo
Morris Graves
Imogen Cunningham & Twinka
(Judy Dater, 1974)

GIORGIO DE CHIRICO ~

Suggestion



Faithful joys for your fine field

forget, o farmer, your anxieties.

Forget the great snows and the evil

wolves, who press on your heart

and turn it black.

When in the dark cavern,

you look into the depths of the profound well

you see that star that amidst

the others has from then on changed

its splendor.



~



Toward a faraway country

where my sun shines,

beyond the cities, beyond the mountains

beyond the dune,

I wish, o night, that I might voyage in sleep

upon your white clouds

lit up by the moon.






Enigma



Black and white man decomposes

who will ever be able to tell us

why this most beautiful rose

so unsettles my thought.





___________________

Giorgio de Chirico
Geometry of Shadows
translated from the Italian by Stefania Heim
A Public Space Books / Brooklyn / 2019

GERALD VIZENOR ~

G E R A L D     V I Z E N O R

Nebraska 

2019

NORMAN SCHAEFER ~

Norman's latest publication from Longhouse

is about getting snagged up with a bear

on a Sierra Nevada trail ~

losing a sleeping bag

and a bit more.

Not funny.

__________________

Perfect bound book

$15

postpaid

Please pay by Paypal
poetry@sover.net

or check:
L O N G H O U S E
PO Box 2454
West Brattleboro
Vermont
05303

______________

PABLO NERUDA ~

R E A D     M E

City Lights

2017

DAVID OLNEY ~

1948 ~ 2020

YOKEL ( 15 ) ~

This Is What Native Says At 50 Feet Up

A pine tree, long hanging ropes

Gassy hot day and chain saw with

Native dangling a moment topside

Of the tree like a burst of sunlight as if

He now were the sun, overweight in torn

Tanktop but with biceps the size of my legs

I hear him talk to the sky, the pissy work

And to me that yeah, my son is nineteen years old

And I wish he had never got into tree

Climbing and instead had gone off to

College since at one time he had

All the money in the world —

I asked, How’d that happen?

Waiting for him to lower down his limbing

Saw by rope and I’d refuel

Do you remember Woodstock II ? Native asked

I did —

And did you ever see the poster that went along

With the CD?

I hadn’t —

Well Native’s son went to Woodstock II and came

Back home with 33-thousand dollars —

I whistled at the amount while tying the

Saw off to hoist back up and Native was already

On a roll to get the old story over with:

How his son muddy and cummy over the musical

Weekend was asked to pose with his girlfriend

Nearly naked but she had a bra on was how

Native described it and for that one photograph

They split the money down the middle

I was left to think that over while Native

Spiked in better footing, bitching about

Pine pitch and sweating like a pig,

Sending large saw-chip flurry from

Sharp tooth chain floating down onto

Me and fragrant honeysuckle bushes —

So the kid came home and spent most

Of the money on a new truck that Native

Drives and a bunch of other junk then

With a bottomed out credit card managed

To put himself in debt up to his eyeballs —

So when does he begin work? I joked

When he gets back from Cal-if-ornia ! says a

Snarling chain saw and Native as pine bough

After pine bough come flying down fast 

Native Never Made It

It was Chucky the logger

Who told me later how

Native never made it —

Only a few weeks after

He took down the pine

Trees here and we rolled

Up the ropes together —

Turns out Native got in

With a wrong bunch

Much younger —

Drugs and drinking —

And they thought 

Nothing about tanking

Up an old fart logger

With wicked cocaine

And dumping his

Gasping body off

At the emergency 

Room entrance

From a car that 

Never stopped —

Just like the movies

Without

Without the moon

Without stars

Snowshoes stay hung up

______________

Bob Arnold

Yokel

Longhouse

2011

LITTLE BIRD (JIMMY HEATH) ~

J I M M Y       H E A T H

1926 ~ 2020

GIOVANNI PASCOLI ~

Giovanni Pascoli "addresses the deepest part of himself" and in doing so

addresses the nature of language. Here is a moral harmony, a manifesto for

a poetry of common memory and dream. Pascoli, quite simply, names truth;

while of the nineteenth century, he is utterly contemporary. There is much

of timeless poetics here, something of Blake's visionary innocence, something

of Whitman's self-contradictions, yet Pascoli has his own tragic sadness to

reconcile: He is unique.

In John Martone he has met his perfect translator. Martone matches

Pascoli's erudition and intelligent ordering. He brings us a clarity from the

limpid and sometimes conflicting apparent simplicity of Pascoli's work.

O Little One is vital to everyone who loves poetry.

— Gerry Loose

Laertes

2019

TROPISMS ~

T R O P I S M S

New Directions

2015

JOYCE CAROL OATES ~

R E A D      M E

ERIK REECE ~

R E A D      M E

Counterpoint

2017

CID CORMAN ~

A new selection of poems drawn from

Cid's last work, plus an original

poem in the poet's script

____________________

$12

postpaid

Please pay by Paypal
poetry@sover.net

or check:
L O N G H O U S E
PO Box 2454
West Brattleboro
Vermont
05303

______________

HE WHO LISTENS ~

P H A R O A H      S A N D E R S

The New Yorker

Nathaniel Friedman

YOKEL ( 14 ) ~

W O O D C U T T E R

Y O K E L

Tell it slant

    EMILY DICKINSON

Peavey

A good tool

Rarely used

But when used

Can single-handedly

Roll away the world

Manual

Three days into Spring smells more like winter

Watch out, wind low in the woods, no raccoon

When snow falls wet and heavy

You spend two days clearing blowdowns

Birch snapped halfway up, hornbeam might lean

Young straight ashes weak at the tops, cherry splinters

Over like a figure never wanting to die

Chain saw bar greased sizzles

Wham sound through the head

Woodchips down the high boots

Poplar sprouted buds softer than the deer hair

Ringing my poncho hood

Hike

The hike to the village some

Time ago was about two miles

For me one way and often in

Mud or old snow which was

When I did the chain saw work

For people or sometimes built

A stone wall — I’d need my back

Pack for the saw work to haul

Along the fuel jugs, wedges

And in my other hand take an

Axe — the stonework called for

Carrying next to nothing

Planet

Trees down everywhere —

So we cleared the trail

And put the world back into order

______________

Bob Arnold

Yokel

Longhouse

2011

DASA DRNDIC ~

I N T E R V I E W

R E A D       M E

Eeg

Belladonna

Doppelganger

(New Directions)