Saturday, March 8, 2014
Spring Chronograph: 6
Beat-up basalt pillars and light drizzle:
commonplace exhibition of dated divinity....
Decades at breakneck speed for an inner life.
Now your dreams roll out in whiskey barrels,
knock-about skits, every nap a somersault.
Pamphlet, a Red Shuttleworth chapbook published by Bunchgrass Press in a limited edition, features two significantly revised poems from 2011 (Red-Eye Flight and Tattered Edge of Town), plus a new poem (A Shrub... a Shelter Tree).
Columbia Basin, Washington
(between Moses Lake and Ephrata-Soap Lake)
Spring Chronograph: 5
Nothing decorative... rain as weak-gesture
from god's ghost: the sage steppe finds spring
as small magic... a splash of moss-colored green,
puddled gravel roads, the hello-goodbye of lovers
stranded, sitting side-by-side on a lumpy hotel bed.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
The ground remains too frozen to dig deep for reason.
There is spotlighting from passing pick-ups...
deer entrails in roadside ditches.
Enormous old, rusted-out combines:
clouds billow eastward... much larger than Walmart cows.
Is it enough to use knowledge for momentary relief
from domestic complications? Prescription drugs...
side effects: grey skin, blue skin, blotchy lips,
water retention, pimples, boils, loss of humor, stroke.
What we know is largely the result of apologies:
gold-bill magpies sweep down to clean up yesterday...
homemade spaghetti on death-yellow backyard grass.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Spring Chronograph: 2
Soggy ground where snow melts
around gnarled big sagebrush: you chuckle,
look for a coyote paw print, and the Wolfhound
pup runs blithely. Grittier days ahead, sure,
but you're within the possible of spring sunlight.