Tuesday, September 8, 2026
Monday, September 7, 2026
Sunday, September 6, 2026
HOT FART IN THE TEMPLE (Ronald Baatz) ~
Rain
like children
running barefoot
Haiku stuck
in the cheap pen
I keep in my overcoat
Falling in her hair
snow knows the perfect path
to her spine
Saturday morning
she pushes a plum
into its own shadow
Dew caressing
a young grasshopper
its whole life ahead of it
In this unbombed part of the world
not so unusual
such huge tulips
Windy cold rain
and whatever blinking
is left in the birdhouse
Dawn
no egg
is ugly
It feels good
inhaling the birds
in the cold morning air
___________________________
Ronald Baatz
Hot Fart in the Temple
Black Fig Press 2025
blackfigpress.wordpress.com
Saturday, September 5, 2026
Friday, September 4, 2026
Thursday, September 3, 2026
Wednesday, September 2, 2026
THIS MOMENT AT LONGHOUSE (NEW TITLES) ~
WHEN I WAS A POET IN CHINA ~ Norman Schaefer
When I Was A Poet In China
Norman Schaefer’s long experience as a wilderness trekker in the Sierras and his admiration for ancient Chinese poets, exemplified by the ethereal presence of Li Po, informs this etude on the sights and sounds of West Coast ecology. When I Was A Poet In China is elegant yet accessible, with a deep respect for the sagacity of an ageless sensibility still relevant today. Centuries and cultures are bridged in this masterful dialogue reflecting on art, literature, and the vagaries of existence under the willows on the banks of Putah Creek.
P A T N O L A N
Longhouse
2026
available now
New, perfect bound, 100 pages
Prose
$16.95
$5 shipping
NEW! ANDREW SCHELLING at LONGHOUSE ~
New! Margaret Randall at Longhouse
BOB ARNOLD'S "SWWIMMER” ~
Bob Arnold
SWWIMMER
Longhouse
a new edition, 2026
available now
New, perfect bound, 170 pages
Prose
$20
$5 shipping
_________
Listen up!
Every book or title here are human-authored and human-designed. People made them. No part of this work may be used to train AI technologies, to develop machine learning or large language models, or for similar purposes without the clear written permission of the publisher.
LONGHOUSE
P.O. Box 2454
West Brattleboro
Vermont
Tuesday, September 1, 2026
ARTHUR SZE ~
Into the Hush
1
A magpie feather gleams in the grass;
today you are not having open-heart surgery,
nor are you strapped to a hospital bed,
inhaling oxygen; you do not mix cement
and sand in a wheelbarrow, nor did you sleep
the night in a field off an interstate highway.
This morning you live in a sparrow's warble,
in pale green leaves trembling in sunshine.
You catch the curling wave of the day
where peas flower on a trellis, where apricot
blossoms tinge the tips of a hundred-year-old tree.
Weeding in the garden, you get stronger
as you dig; you become well, island, field;
out of nowhere, a rough-legged hawk
glides downward with outstretched wings;
aspen leaves flutter without wind. When you've
worked this long, your art is no longer art
but a wand that wakes your eyes to what is.
_________________________________
Arthur Sze
Into the Hush
Copper Canyon Press
2025
Monday, August 31, 2026
HANSHAN ~
from Cold Mountain Zen
Father and mother having left me much to inherit,
I'm not envious of others' paddies and fields.
My wife handles her loom, clicking, clucking,
my child, playing by herself, mouth babbling, babbling.
She claps her hands, making blossoms dance,
chin in hands, she listens to birds singing.
Who will come by and admire all this?
Just a woodcutter stops by for awhile.
Since birth, for thirty years,
I've walked tens of thousands of li.
Along the rivers blue grass proliferated,
as I entered the borders scarlet dust rose.
I kneaded elixir vainly to seek immortality,
I read books to comment on history.
Having returned to Cold Mountain now,
I lie by a stream and wash my ears.
As I climb the path to Cold Mountain,
the route to Cold Mountain does not end.
The valley is long with piles of stones,
the streams smothered with grass.
The moss is smooth, not because of rain,
the pines sough, not by borrowing winds.
Who would go beyond the world
and sit with me amid white clouds?
I lie beneath heavy layers of rocks;
steamy clouds do not fade during the day.
My room is murky and dark,
but my mind rejects uproar and clatter.
My dreams go to wander in golden palaces,
my soul returns by crossing the stone bridge.
I've thrown away whatever disturbs me,
even the gourd clanking in the trees.
My house sits under green boulders;
the garden is wild but I do not cut grass.
New wisterias hang down, entwiningly;
old stones stand, rising steeply, sharply.
Monkeys pick mountain berries;
in the pond a white heron mouths fish.
The transcendental book, in two volumes,
I read under a tree, mumbling.
_C O L D M O U N T A I N Z E N_________________________________
Hanshan
translated by Hiroaki Sato
New Directions 2026
I've waited all my life for Hiroaki Sato to bring us Hanshan —
it was only a matter of time. Excellent footnotes accompany these
poems, so I encourage every reader to find this essential book, a
beauty, and read all the poems, all the footnotes, all the essays,
all the all. I just wanted to type out a few poems to share on a late
summer season evening.
Sunday, August 30, 2026
MONK ALIVE IN ZURICH 1964 ~
Thelonious Monk Quartet Zurich, Switzerland 02/26/1964 Charlie Rouse (ts) Thelonious Monk (p) Edward "Butch" Warren (b) Ben Riley (d)
Saturday, August 29, 2026
Friday, August 28, 2026
THOMAS A CLARK, THREADBARE ~
the shape changer
______________________________
once I was a deer
stepping under trees
my form always broken
by lights and shadows
then I was a wildcat
leaping up and away
from the traces of my own
rigour and ferocity
in a fold of hills
nodding with flowers
I took on many
shapes and colours
seldom was I present
to myself in a form
half as alluring
as what I might become
again I was a goldcrest
a bright fragment of song
moving through the forest
leading farther in
at times defeated
reduced to stone
I lay disregarded
concealed in the open
then I was a juniper
turning to take the slope
pausing and bracing myself
above a sheer drop
and once I was a dragonfly
for an afternoon
little more than a notion
of the stillness and the green
_______________________
The Threadbare Coat
Selected Poems
Carcanet, UK, 2020
we celebrate our wedding anniversary
today with a dear poetry friend
Thursday, August 27, 2026
LARRY EIGNER ~
_______________________
microphones
on top of the world
heads spin
empty
______________________
Waters /
Places /
A Time
edited by Robert Grenier
Black Sparrow Press
1983
photo ~ Ann Charters

















