NANCI GRIFFITH ~

 

farewell

NOMADIC ARCHITECTURE ~

 

Update on a great book —

KENT JOHNSON'S ~ I ONCE MET ~

KENT JOHNSON

I  Once  Met

 A Partial Memoir of the Poetry Field 

New and available now from Longhouse ~

 

Prose
176 pages
 Perfect bound softcover
Illustrated 

SIGNED or UNSIGNED

New with small book label fully signed by Kent Johnson on the opening flyleaf

____________________________________

Link to these new reviews at :

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2015/08/i-once-met-reviewed-at-locus-solus/

https://newyorkschoolpoets.wordpress.com/2015/08/20/to-the-memory-of-joe-brainard-kent-johnsons-i-once-met/ 

http://longhousepoetryandpublishers.blogspot.com/2015/08/john-phillips-hold-everything-dear.html

http://www.raintaxi.com/the-hole-of-hypocrisy-a-conversation-with-kent-johnson-on-the-u-s-avant-garde-and-other-fictions/  

$30 (unsigned)

$45 (signed)

Shipping $5 ~ U.S. orders with Paypal

for Paypal ~ use our email address of 

longhousepoetry@gmail.com

Available through ABE and Alibris

all orders may be made by Paypal or check

mail order here:
 

LONGHOUSE
 PO Box 2454
 West Brattleboro, Vermont 05303

EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS (THOREAU) ~

 

EARLY SPRING

IN

MASSACHUSETTS

ELKA SCHUMANN ~

 

E L K A     S C H U M A N N

August 29, 1935 ~

August 1, 2021

A NEWER WOODY GUTHRIE ~

 

R E V I E W

If you have read all the Guthrie biographies

you will still want to read this one

GUNTER EICH ~

Inventory

This is my cap,

this is my coat,

here's my shaving gear

in a linen sack.

A can of rations:

my plate, my cup,

I've scratched my name

in the tin.

Scratched it with this

valuable nail

which I hide

from avid eyes.

In the foodsack is

a pair of wool socks

and something else that I

show to no one,

it all serves as a pillow

for my head at night.

The cardboard here lies

between me and the earth.

The lead in my pencil

I love most of all:

in the daytime it writes down

the verses I make at night.

This is my notebook,

this is my tarpaulin,

this is my towel,

this is my thread.

____________________

Gunter Eich

Valuable Nail

translated from the German by

Stuart Friebert, David Young & David Walker

Field, 1981

MARIE HARRIS ~

 

Sunapee Mandala

Leave your shadow here

on the long memory of rock

that you may number among

the friends of the planet:

we are one

in summer woods

overflowing with wings,

in the fires kindled by orange lily

struck against fern flint,

one with the music of wind

played on icy birch bones,

and the promise pollen spells

across the watery mirrors

of our future.

_______________________

Marie Harris

Desire Lines

Hobblebush Books

2019

LINER NOTES FOR THE REVOLUTION ~

 

R E A D     M E

Harvard 

2021

THE FASCINATING GEORGE FORSS ~

 

G E O R G E      F O R S S

photo: Phyllis Wrynn

N. SCOTT MOMADAY ~

 

The Delight Song of Tsoai-Talee

I am a feather on the bright sky.

I am the blue horse that runs in the plain.

I am the fish that rolls, shining, in the water.

I am the shadow that follows a child.

I am the evening light, the luster of meadows.

I am an eagle playing with the wind.

I am a cluster of bright beads.

I am the farthest star.

I am the cold of dawn.

I am the roaring of the rain.

I am the glitter on the crust of the snow.

I am the long track of the moon in a lake.

I am a flame of four colors.

I am a deer standing away in the dusk.

I am a field of sumac and the pomme blanche.

I am an angle of geese in the winter sky.

I am the hunger of a young wolf.

I am the whole dream of these things.

You see, I am alive, I am alive

I stand in good relation to the earth.

I stand in good relation to the gods.

I stand in good relation to all that is beautiful.

I stand in good relation to the daughter of Tsen-tainte.

You see, I am alive, I am alive.

___________________________

N. Scott Momaday

from When the Light of the

World Was Subdued, Our Songs

Came Through, edited by Joy Harjo

Norton, 2020

REVEREND GARY DAVIS ~

 

BLAZE FOLEY, IN THE TREES ~

 

love the one

JOEY JORDISON (DRUMMER) ~

 

J O E Y      J O R D I  S O N

1975- 2021

WTF PODCAST ~ RICK RUBIN ~

 

NORA BROWN ~

 

ANDY WARHOL "THE COMPLETE PICTURE" ~

 

BOB MOSES ~

 

B O B     M O S E S

ROBERT HAYDEN ~

 

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early

and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,

then with cracked hands that ached

from labor in the weekday weather made

banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.

When the rooms were warm, he'd call,

and slowly I would rise and dress,

fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,

who had driven out the cold

and polished my good shoes as well.

What did I know, what did I know

of love's austere and lonely offices?

__________________________

Robert Hayden

African American Poetry

250 Years of struggle & song

Kevin Young, editor

Library of America

2020

CHRISSIE HYNDE SINGS BOB DYLAN ~

 

R E V I E W

ah well — search it out, good stuff!