Monday, September 30, 2013

Moreover

(A Ciara Shuttleworth Photo)

Moreover

Ventures proven unattractive, without purpose,
and now a cold-as-old-silver autumn wind
hits the knees.  The plans to give (buried now)....
You forage among powdered old coyote bones:
a sleepwalker, you call out to no man's god.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Let's Get Back to the Milk Bones Box

Red Shuttleworth
& Peaches Shuttleworth (11 1/2 Weeks Old)


Let's Get Back to the Milk Bones Box


On her 10th day with Red Shuttleworth, Peaches (an Irish Wolfhound puppy) feels no need for photo-ops.

She has already gotten into the routine of night writing in Red's studio.  Her first task as a writer's dog is to help Red get his play about the coming water crisis, High Plains Fandango, ready for publication as a book from Humanitas Media Publishing.


Friday, September 27, 2013

Hearken





Hearken

At the hard-brown sunflower stalk edge

of a sage steppe town, withered poplars,
abandoned single-wide trailers, September
finishes cool and rainy, a begged-for kiss:
blackbirds flutter-mad in a field of cut alfalfa.


Title poem of a Red Shuttleworth limited edition chapbook from Bunchgrass Press, Hearken is also included in Shuttleworth's Woe to the Land Shadowing (Blue Horse Press, 2015), a poetry book available on Amazon.





Monday, September 23, 2013

YOUR DAY WILL COME: A Poetry Chapbook



Your Day Will Come

a six poem chapbook by

Red Shuttleworth


Red Shuttleworth's new chapbook, Your Day Will Come, in a limited edition of 25 from Bunchgrass Press, includes:

I Met Someone Who Knows You

Three Dirt Roads... Nevada

Landscape Up Ahead... Pretty Soon

Creosote Bushes... Desert Holly

I Still Know So Little About You

Before Midnight




Those interested in receiving a copy of Your Day Will Come should correspond with Red Shuttleworth via email while supplies last.


Saturday, September 21, 2013

Peaches Has Arrived in her New Home with Red Shuttleworth

Peaches Shuttleworth
( enroute September 20, 2013 


Peaches Shuttleworth, born July 8th, enjoyed her first night (sleeping on her living room bed with Red camped out on a couch) at home and this morning is frisky.  Yesterday included nine grueling hours in her brother Luke's Camaro... hours and hours across Oregon with only a few brief rest stops.  Although she misses her true mom (Molly) and dad (Oiseen) and littermates, she is determined to make the most of her new life, as a writing hound, with Red Shuttleworth.

Peaches picked up a couple of fleas in Oregon... goddamned MFA national professoriate already bugging her.

Peaches will be working, for the next month or so, on a book version of Red's play High Plains Fandango (which will be published late this year by Humanitas Media Publishing).  She will proudly continue the work of Wolfie Shuttleworth... her great grand uncle Irish Wolfhound.

More dispatches about (and soon by) Peaches Shuttleworth

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Summer Chronograph: 90



Summer Chronograph: 90

Whiskey-bolstered, you'd grin at scablands
still sage-green in September.  Years gone....
You're sober these days, clumsy though,
a sun-scorched, one-dog-short, thirsty
old man, blood in your glacier-water eyes.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

AUTUMN CHRONOGRAPH: A Poetry Chapbook




Autumn Chronograph

poetry

Red Shuttleworth


Autumn Chronograph, Red Shuttleworth's new chapbook from Bunchgrass Press, contains 35 of the 90 poems from a September-into-December sequence written in 2012. These were the last poems written by Red with the late Wolfie, his constant literary companion of five and a half years.  Wolfie, afflicted with bone cancer, perished in early January of 2013. The poems in this chapbook were selected by Portuguese man-of-letters Nuno Santos.


  Red Shuttleworth
& Wolfie Shuttleworth


Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Summer Chronograph: 79



Summer Chronograph: 79

On this seldom-breeze high desert, the Cascades...

blurry foothills too far to the west to ride a horse to,
you ask your ghost, Who're you really here with?
A few ashen-faced clouds skitter to the north.
A blackbird, weary-rotten choir boy, screeches.