Monthly Archives: March 2011

Teens and the Elderly

Nature makes teens and the elderly mean. Otherwise, we would never let them go.

–a grandmother

Spring Storm at the Beach

Incessant sheeting skeins of rain
Cut across the morning’s grain
A sumi ink drawing could not perfect
Their sinusoidal curtains swaying.

Through ink black trees still I detect
Deep beneath the intellect,
A whiff of joy in the rush
And twist of this storm’s great bullneck.

There!–in the full onrush
Amid the rumble and the crush
Of tumbling skies and rolling air,
The spring time cry of a hermit thrush.

Stealing Fire

“Ok, so you stole fire but you lack two things, justice and reverence. Without justice and reverence your stealing fire will be your undoing.”

–Zeus to Prometheus.

Thai Food

The hour is late.
The dishes are cleared–my god, what food.
Delectable Thai hot, blinking back the burn,
We ride the ripping roller coaster of flavors,
Coasting slowly to a stop on front of home made mango ice cream and jasmine tea.
Designed to slowly slay you with it’s erotic intensity,
who cannot lie down exhausted?
Next week?
Same time?

So Long, Pinetop

Pinetop Perkins, one of the last original Delta bluesmen, is dead at 97. So long, Pinetop. I was fortunate enough to see you perform before you left. You showed me and the world the gut bucket joy and low down sexual drive that makes the blues a universal art form. You didn’t clean up the blues, but left them in their raw, electric, visceral glory.

Dennis the Brave

Dennis Kucinich, the little congressman with the big titanium balls, has said it out loud. If Bush’s invasion of Iraq was illegal and violated the Constitution, then so is Obamas bombing of Libya. Both are grounds for impeachment and removal from office. Meanwhile Obama sends his campaign money collectors to Wall Street. I agree with Matt Damon, I no longer hope for audacity. I’d settle for obeying the law: on illegal wiretaps, suspension of habeas corpus, on closing Guantanamo–and all this from the constitutional scholar.

Stealing Home

On my morning walk, I saw three wood peckers fighting over the same interesting spot on a telephone pole. The neighbors were still asleep or they would have seen it too.

A friend saw a brown and yellow bird in his yard and sent around a picture asking what it was. It was a varied thrush, if you must know.

Last night the moon, closer to earth than it had been in 18 years, peered down through the canyons of downtown Portland. From ninth street it looked like it was on second base and might steal home.

Closer to the grave than the birthing room, I stand on second too. With a wide open base path ahead, I think I will race the moon home.