June 2010
7 posts
Images related to "Heading to Horn Island"
A teenage Barbara Ann with Grandma Terry Green on Horn Island, a long barrier island in the Gulf off the Mississippi coast.
Pa Wes and Grandma Terry hauling in some shrimp off Horn Island circa 1962.
Heading to Horn Island
Heading to Horn Island Hum of the outboard Hint of diesel Hot Mississippi sun Heading to Horn Island From Biloxi, from Ocean Springs From Pascagoula, the Singing River Almost to Horn Island Sitting up in the bow Pounding over the wake Salt spray on my face Approaching Horn Island Horizon of endless brilliance Sand sugar white Gulf lazy, azure flat Put in to Horn Island A spot all to ourselves We...
Honey Locust Invitation
Mid-May honey locust blossoms From the tall stately tree In our own front yard Like an aphrodisiac to me Like the Kama Sutra Like entangled glyphs on ancient temple walls Like ambrosia of the Greco-Roman gods Like pharaohs given baths by kohl-eyed slave girls Like Persian miniatures of sensuous beauties and minarets at sundown Like furtive looks in hookah bars from eyes slightly stoned Like...
O Hudson, My Hudson
O mighty Hudson I’ve loved you from the start Your headwaters at tiny Lake Tear of the Clouds That time I camped in your presence When it rained after I’d climbed all day Taking the less traveled stream bed To that ultimate peak, Tahawus. That night when I was alone with mournful loons After days of backpacking solo, trance-like Keeping a fire going despite a gentle drizzle Me, afraid in the...
To The Mothers (Happy Mother’s Day 2010)
To the mothers who are joyous To the mothers who are glad To the mothers who are pious To the mothers who are sad. To the mothers who are humble To the mothers who are proud To the mothers who speak softly To the mothers who cry out loud. To the mothers in their nineties To the mothers in their teens To the mothers full of passion To the mothers full of beans. To the mothers who sing with laughter...
Little Brooklyn Foxes
Me and Iris, just kids Listening to rock and roll on scratchy vinyl Listening to Murray the K on AM radio Submarine race watching Which really meant make out music ‘Though we weren’t supposed to know ‘bout that yet. We wanted to see what it was all about So we take the train to Brooklyn by ourselves To see Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Jan and Dean And some Girl Group. We were just eleven But...
March 2010
1 post
Every Sad Girl Does (In Memoriam)
It was a fine wedding, full of promise Half of County Cork squeezed into that Brooklyn church Bride and groom, right and left Millie O’Grady, raven-haired wild Irish rose Could make you weep with her O Danny Boy Come to marry her handsome, ruddy Bill O’Shea Sweet-faced imp could deliver a punch line That’d make your sides ache for a week. They both had the gift, the spark A touch of the...
January 2010
12 posts
TELEPORT TO MOUNTAINS
wanted to teleport to the big noisy city hear the poet from the top of the world drink wine hob nob with the literati dig the art scene but a tragic obstacle a fireball from hades that stole a life brought the collective consciousness to a snarling standstill so we stopped at the nearest blue screen teleported to the planet of our virtual selves pandora’s box full of greed...
WINTER WHITE BURGUNDY
the mystics, the scientists in rare accord every seven years the body transformed made afresh cells miraculousy replaced. now it is seven years since that winter eve perfect champagne heady floral bouquet caviar rich and saline served by dainty spoonful. limo into new york luxe life riding a wall street high dinner sublime zagat heaven vintage white burgundy wrapped in vibrant...
A Dream Worn Round and White
i found a stone worn round and white
put it in my pocket when day was done i set it upon an old wooden chest. that night i dreamed of a wise woman a knot of white hair wrapped comfortably ‘round her head as she sat upon her white cane chair, rocking. a fair graceful dog curled by her feet wound ‘round a comfortable groove in a patch of smooth dirt upon a well-worn yarn rug ...
Vaclav Serves It Up
It’s the Thursday before Christmas Trudge through the snow back to my place on Riverside Shopping bags stuffed like sausages Into the elevator with that charming Vaclav lives on my floor Charcoal Armani suit, white opera scarf, piercing blues eyes Asks politely the pleasure of my company to his holiday party An authentic dinner at 7 tomorrow evening Offers a hand with my packages before...
Resolution Deferred
she was gonna go off on her own today sneak off in the old sedan, call a cab, take a bus, catch a train take a friggin’ stagecoach if she could find one outta this wasteland suburban mall nightmare people in their fat ass sweatpants ugly christmas sweaters towing noisy needy kids in their giant SUVs plates affirming MOMSVAN buying shit all the time, eating shit all the time throwing half...
SNOWPLAY
A memoir in favor of the arts in public school
I pecked away all night on Dad’s clunky Underhill typewriter. The plot was so clear once everyone else had gone to bed. Although we were stranded light years from Earth, we’d use our imaginations and whatever survived our crash landing to make a home on this cold, distant planet. A final sign would say: “The Beginning,” just like on a sci fi show...
Dutch Quad Contact High
it was a typical institutional, newyorkstate constitutional feedlot thousands of hungry undergraduate scholars queued up for a ration of meatloaf macaroniandcheese vegetable medley iceberg wedge and beverage facsimile cows silently mooed at each corner of the cavernous room plastic udders and rubber teats dispensing an endless stream of white or chocolate as you please. sine waves of...
Bittersweet Sixteen
iris and me we learned to dance in lynn’s knotty pine basement american bandstand on black and white tv dick clark every day after school justine and bob always the best couple they were older they were teenagers they were from philly with good clothes good hair good moves if they said you could dance to it, you could dance to it. but that was back in junior high now we were in high...
Breakfast With Champions
january thaw left the skiing iffy in vermont, all gray corn snow and frozen slush so me and mike we head for sun valley, idaho where the sky is vivid blue and the snow piercing white but in between that midgut of the country, that bread basket prairie lying low and featureless that interstate endless, somewhere around peoria the car actin’ kinda funny stop at a gas station see what’s up ya...
Carousel 64
you let me stay at your house when i came back for my big reunion let me stay in the room with the sitar and the tabla, the pictures of you fulbright scholar with indira gandhi, you were so bright, so innovative bringing music to the classroom opening thousands of minds. but now your great sadness your many wounds your bowel eviscerated, your face distorted your cancer managed you ask...
Flash Flood '72
moonless night, you and me packed into that cobalt blue VW logging a million miles from chattanooga to chaco canyon. the last twenty all dusty road where jackrabbits big as ghosts jump out of the darkness. drive on to pueblo bonita where we spend the night feeling spirits rise from the kivas of the anasazi. but in the morning, the ranger says the sky hadn’t cried in seven years...
Piecework
raining again in the gray part of the city a guy walks in front of you holds his umbrella high and you wonder if he bought it cheap from somebody on the street way downtown and it’ll go inside out when it’s windy and he’ll just drop it in the gutter, collapsed, abandoned. not like the kind the old ladies made in the flatiron building where 5th and broadway cross where the...