Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Red: A Book: 82. Lois And The Greatness of American Poetry
Red: A Book: 82. Lois And The Greatness of American Poetry: Lois read where some noted assessor of poetry had opined that American poetry was in danger of losing its "greatness.' She was relieved to ...
Red: A Book: 188. Meatloaf Writers Conference
Red: A Book: 188. Meatloaf Writers Conference: At the Meatloaf Writers Conference, famous authors call each other by nicknames and speak in complacent ironies. A homeless man sneaks int...
Red: A Book: 139. She Was Just Out of the Bath
Red: A Book: 139. She Was Just Out of the Bath: Not long out of the bath, she wore a robe. She sat back in their favorite chair, expansive and plush, and he sat on the floor, painting her ...
Red: A Book: 136. Hiram Muses Priapically
Red: A Book: 136. Hiram Muses Priapically: Hiram found himself moved to muse on his phallus. He, too, thought the subject tedious, and yet there he was, musing on it. Hiram's cock h...
On the Death of Icons
for C.M
The ones who helped to stitch together
the fabric of your world--
maybe they sang and strummed,
played games professionally,
acted, stood in the hell of politics
speaking of heaven, wrote a poem
or book you fell into, or by some other
means told you who you were and
weren't. When another one of these goes
over the falls that drop into no pool forever,
you find yourself in a narrow canyon, all
alone, as bewildered as a child, increasingly
indifferent to the path that leads
you out of there.
The ones who helped to stitch together
the fabric of your world--
maybe they sang and strummed,
played games professionally,
acted, stood in the hell of politics
speaking of heaven, wrote a poem
or book you fell into, or by some other
means told you who you were and
weren't. When another one of these goes
over the falls that drop into no pool forever,
you find yourself in a narrow canyon, all
alone, as bewildered as a child, increasingly
indifferent to the path that leads
you out of there.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Emily Dickinson on Twitter
I'll leave it to
my forest friends
to tweet --
mellifluent --
and brief --
and often sweet.
Their message
stays the same --
"We are! We are!"
They travel here --
each spring --
from very far.
Of PC -- of Mac --
of Twitter account --
they have no need.
Just throat --
and beak -- and tiny
tongue for reed.
Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom
my forest friends
to tweet --
mellifluent --
and brief --
and often sweet.
Their message
stays the same --
"We are! We are!"
They travel here --
each spring --
from very far.
Of PC -- of Mac --
of Twitter account --
they have no need.
Just throat --
and beak -- and tiny
tongue for reed.
Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom
To the Makery
Got to get me down
to the makery
to make something,
something to serve
as an antidote
and a spirit-tote,
to act as a counter-to
to all this fakery.
Got to stay hey
miles away from
that damned hatery,
where crowds go now
to get their menace on.
That's one muther of a
bad drug, hate.
It will kill you but sometimes
only after you
kill somebody else.
If you want, we can go
to the lakery. We can
visit with wise catfish,
cool down our bodies
and our souls, get away from
the most of the everybody.
And after we're cool,
we can get down
to the makery.
Copyright 2012
to the makery
to make something,
something to serve
as an antidote
and a spirit-tote,
to act as a counter-to
to all this fakery.
Got to stay hey
miles away from
that damned hatery,
where crowds go now
to get their menace on.
That's one muther of a
bad drug, hate.
It will kill you but sometimes
only after you
kill somebody else.
If you want, we can go
to the lakery. We can
visit with wise catfish,
cool down our bodies
and our souls, get away from
the most of the everybody.
And after we're cool,
we can get down
to the makery.
Copyright 2012
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