Televisions Everywhere Monday, Dec 28 2009

There are televisions everywhere
strung out through every room
in the house,
a circus train of televisions
& in each car its freight
of the dwarfed
living scripted lives with
prominent product placement
& the decapitated
babbling about
which politician is
fucking which starlet
on which businessman’s dime
& the commercials are always
horrible loud     everyone is shouting
& there’s not   one   room in this house
where I can quietly read,
where I can sit and write this
unless they’re all asleep,
or I think they’re asleep
until my son wanders
into the kitchen
and switches on
the counter top set &
then bangs out ice &
pours a Diet Coke
& so I go onto the porch
in damp winter December
to shiver with a whiskey
& read Bukowski
to cheer myself up, because
as long as he’s on the shelf
there’s someone in this house
who understands me.

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In Transit Wednesday, Dec 23 2009

Bad luck I think
to tell anyone where
I parked the car
(6F)
right before the flight
(424)
that hangs on
invisible strings
of numbers,
formulae
of wing forms & lift

velocity vector vorticity

the last the cause of
trailing magic smoke
at rudder & aerilon
that carries us
through the air
(I swear)
arriving at 12:33

They no longer offer
vending machine
flight insurance
& don’t sell lotto here
either, preferring
a mysterious belief in
the absolute certainty
of Hartsfield International.

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Maple Leaf Rag 4 Monday, Dec 21 2009

Thanks to Nancy Harris, host of the Maple Leaf Poetry Series (the longest running continuing poetry reading in the south) and John Travers of Portals Press for hosting a fantastic launch party for the Maple Leaf Rag 4, a collection of works by over eighty poets from New Orleans and all across the country who have read at the Maple Leaf Bar Sunday afternoons in New Orleans.

The patio was full but as Nancy read down the table of contents to call authors up to read from the collection and she kept saying “no, he’s up in Omaha, she’s in Connecticut, he’s in California, she’s in Atlanta” which will give you an idea of the draw and popularity of the series, founded by Everette Maddox in the 1970s. The reading started almost on time (just after three) and ran on until someone in the audience had to offer up a pocket flashlight for the last readers to finish by.

Three poems in this collection which I had hidden behind passwords are now back up on the pages at left: “Blinded by Sunrise (For Everette Maddox)”, “Red Against Blue” and “Lucky Harrahan”. As I noted below, I am keeping more of my work hidden behind passwords as I move beyond using this public journal as the endpoint of my poetry and increase my submissions, but that’s a happy problem to have I guess. Three additional poems–”After the End of the World”, “Calf Foot Blues” and “Bukowski’s Bluebird” will be back up after Jan. 5, when they appear in the journal The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature.

As soon as Portals Press adds the book to it’s web site I’ll post up a URL. It’s a little late to suggest books of poetry make great holiday gifts, but remember the Xmas season isn’t over until Twelfth Night so there’s still time. I heard John say they are at Maple Street Books so there’s hope yet if you need that perfect gift for the poetry lover on your list.

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