Archive for July, 2013

jamming with jimi by R.D. McManes

Posted in R.D. McManes with tags on July 8, 2013 by Scot

jimi said in a haze
purple always was my color
but i like it before she fades
and then he smiles
only to vanish
in another blind line
straight into a maze

but in the eyed mind
there is more
to see or believe
nobody tongues a guitar
or fingers flatten frets
belts out a tune
like jimi did

his lips pursed
around the sky
the silver moon falls
in the morning
the little rooster crows red
cause he can’t do purple
not like jimi did

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Of the Creeks, the Baying Dogs by Harry Calhoun

Posted in Harry Calhoun with tags on July 8, 2013 by Scot

I remember flyfishing with my father
on foggy mornings, on Pennsylvania creeks. And today,
my black Labs with much hound mixed in,
strut undomesticated from my wooded backlot

to claim the back deck with wildness. Yowling
that if I would understand, I might become werewolf —
and I wish in some part I could. As I wish I could stake
some misty claim beyond my father’s death

and angle again those foggy banks, to become the wild
and the dead and the deathless — the ineffable and feral,
beloved eternal and mortal.

My lover my wife beside me wished eternal and hoped forever.
My father, my parent wished eternal and gone forever.
Communication: dog, human, lycanthrope, struggle,

I howl and the moon rises … or does the moon rise and then
I howl? I do not know which comes first. I have this, my fierce love,
and the strange and wild poetry that rises in my breast.