Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Ominous Warmth... Colder Days Ahead



Ominous Warmth... Colder Days Ahead

Fewer switchbacks as you pass seventy...
and you stare at a hyper-real desert sky:
near-visible grey horses, darker clouds.
Fly-over jetliners.  All this perceivedness
dwindling just as you wish it to blossom.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

SANDSTONE FOR POTEMKIN: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook




Sandstone for Potemkin

four poems

Red Shuttleworth


Sandstone for Potemkin, four poems by Red Shuttleworth, is a limited edition Bunchgrass Press chapbook.

Included in the chapbook are:
Siberia in Collective Memory
Odessa, Ukraine, in Collective Memory
The Movie Theater was Sold Out
and
January Tracks


Siberia... a Family... 1913-1915

Saturday, November 22, 2014

ARRANMORE: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook





Arranmore

four poems by

Red Shuttleworth



Arranmore, a four-poem Red Shuttleworth limited edition chapbook from Bunchgrass Press, includes:

Dublin
Arranmore Island
Killorglin
and
Dungiven



Arranmore Island, 1969
(photo by Red Shuttleworth)




Belfast 1969
(A Ciara Shuttleworth painting,
oil on canvas, 24" by 16", 2005)

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Chrysanthemum Dance Tea

Chrysanthemum Dance Tea
(A crayon sketch by Red Shuttleworth)


Chrysanthemum Dance Tea

Polaroid-white frost on scab rock.
Black holes, cracks and crevices in time,
heat-bubbled-blood of a distant star:
it's snake-meat stew... some god's
retrospective exhibit... nothing for sale.

Half-doubt and doubling: the notion
you will see your lost brother,
or the son lost in childhood...
it persists to jangle sleep.

Midnight: chrysanthemum
dance tea.  Your dream-weeping
paints every skyline hopeless
with grey chapel-glass clouds.


Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Presentation / Preservation



Presentation / Preservation

Air stagnation advisory... shrub desert sunset:
the Wolfhound has been looking
over my shoulder at Dust Bowl
photographs... black-'n-whites
we might render in burnt-color...
slow-to-dry oil paint on canvas.

The local radio station is in a shabby
house at the freeway side of town.
We drive past it once a month.
We speak of becoming radio DJ's,
spinners of old time Waylon-trashed music.

We speak of the country looking Martian,
red dust over death-green sagebrush.
We speak in circles about acid free paper,
about how many God Particles can dance
on the head of a flea, about drought
and ancient going-empty aquifers.

You run your muzzle through weeds,
the Wolfhound says, then you get itchy
weeds in your muzzle... like forever.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Desert-Rich Chroma



Desert-Rich Chroma

A no-bellboys hotel...
boys and girls try to connect
stageworthy motives
to meth-gone dreams.

As it stands,
ice-fog drips off sagebrush.

A banality I heard
back in junior college:
We are different people
when we put on white shirts.

This could be a saga
of brand new drywall
in a sagebrush hotel...
an off-white end-days surface...
a between-walls  rattler.

As it freezes, fog
takes on last-flourish
October... desert-lilac hues.



In Step Fantastical

In Step Fantastical
(A crayon sketch by Red Shuttleworth)


In Step Fantastical
or
Why Peaches Shuttleworth is Not on facebook

Comic strip facebook self-broadcasters...
self-made cement blocks with fat-mannequin bodies:
Freudian turmoilists... and wanker-Zuck,
micro-softy unzipped, at a side window.

No evidence that one friend
was ever in love, ever had a daddy
die four separate times... to avoid
contact with other facebookers,
folks who show up at invitationals.

No evidence... only breakdowns and Likes
among brittle-stalk sunflowers,
among photo-post others in restraints:
breakdowns and deadpans... bust-ups and bedpans.