Category: Commentary
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Black River Mystery
Black River Mystery down in the Black Riverfloodplain not far fromcattails and clumps ofriver-birch, snuggled inwith rag-weed, QueenAnne’s Lace and St. John’sWort sits a square patchof young five and sevenfrond-leaf plantings sixfeet high, approachingharvest strength – perhapsnext week where did they gobig mystery of the floodplaindry patch of ground – fiveand seven frond dream-makers gone…
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Summer’s Almost Gone
This is an older poem I came across while going through my old journals for material to use in my memoir. I wrote this in August of ’83 while sitting in a bus shelter waiting for the number 9. Summer’s Almost Gone August rains are coldThe sky is crying Wind gusts blow me downThe sky…
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Something
SomethingThe Beatles Something in the way she moves Attracts me like no other lover Something in the way she woos me I don’t want to leave her now You know I believe and how Somewhere in her smile, she knows That I don’t need no other lover Something in her style that shows me I…
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Summer’s Last Holiday
Summer’s Last Holiday used to be the summerseason’s first holidayMay-day, still celebratedaround the world onthe first of May celebrates labor’s victoriesof the late 19th and early 20thcenturies over robber baronsand their bankers and lackeysfederal, state, and local our owners bought and manipulatedthe levers of power; moved ourcelebration to season’s endreduced to backyard smokey grillsand a…
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Malabar Farm
Malabar Farm home ot Lewis Bromfield’27 Pulitzer Prize for FictionMalabar Big House, setting forthe infamous weddingof Bogie and Bacall Beta-tested innovativefarming techniquesearly experimentsin contour plowing, croprotation, organic farming guests, influential or notgiven chore-list withmorning meal – nomatter who, mustwork for your supper Malabar State Parkhalfway between Clevelandand Columbus OHLewi’s ghost still walksthe Big House halls…
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Johnny by Sarah Jarosz
Johnny by Sarah Jarosz Johnny’s on the back porchDrinkin’ red wineHe knows that it could beThe very last timeHe raises the glass upTo his lipsAnd wonders How could a boyFrom a little bay townGrow up to be a manFly the whole world roundAnd end back upOn the same damn groundHe started You might not get…
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Seventy-six Trombones
Seventy-six Trombones seventy-six trombones in the big paradeplaying the seventy-sixth part of the gamewondering how deep is the benchhow many more ready to take my place? guess it’s all moot since strings areall I’ve ever played, four, six, and twelvefretted and fretless, trombones in asense I guess, nonetheless circlings of Sol a trombone eachanticipating the…
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Outrage for the Execution of Willie McGee
Outrage for the Execution of Willie McGee – Lyricsby Goodnight, Texas That old shoe was bound to walk now that man right out the doorThis old shoe is bound to walk now tell you what the reasons forThis old dollar bought me nothing, this dollar sick and frailThis dollar bought you something, now your man…
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Late August, Morning Ride
Late August, Morning Ride Sol rising, 20 degrees off thehorizon casting long shadowsalong the path, barcoding thebarios we’re rolling through sunward, the bone-dry riverbottom, half submerged inshadow twitches with lifeferal, stealthy, waiting ring-ding-ding bwaaah ring-ding-ding bwaah of under-powered motorbike playingchicane in morning traffic homeless sprawl across thepath in underpasses, accidentswaiting to happen, carelessof themselves and…
CynOp 