a poem is a city
we gathered at stan and lesley's home for another meeting of our "freewheelin poets' collective."
people read poems that move them, from byron to bukowski to blake.
i didn't bring anything; i read from my journal instead, and took notes about the books everyone is currently reading. just for fun, here are some of the titles: Dhalgren, (So howled out for the world to give him a name...) Just Kids, One Day (wanted to live life in such a way that if a photograph were taken at random, it would be a cool photograph), Beans and Bacon from a Gold Pan, Lolita, Colette's Vagabond, (I dance and dance.) Clan of the Cave Bear, Walk Across America, and the Urantia Book.
if you've read any of these and care to comment please do; what did you think? or guess who's reading what, or give recommendations, or tell me what you're reading...this is my favorite kind of conversation, really when you get down to the fact of the matter.
a poem is a city filled with streets and sewers
filled with saints, heroes, beggars, madmen,
a poem is a city asking a clock why,
a poem is a city burning
a poem is a city under guns
its barbershops filled with cynical drunks
a poem is a city where God rides naked
through the streets like Lady Godiva,
this poem, this city, closing its doors,
barricaded, almost empty,
mournful without tears, aging without pity,
the hardrock mountains,
the ocean like a lavender flame,
a moon destitute of greatness,
a small music from broken windows. . .
and then we went down to Liar's Bench to sing karaoke and dance and play pool,
to make friends with the saints, heroes, beggars and madmen.
annnndd...if you're not too sick of me and my friendies yet,
here's a little video i made about loving my life.
it's just something i do (being a total nerd) sometimes when i get sappily nostalgic.
sweater: vintage thrifted years ago
art's boots over skinny jeans: rocknroll
addie, stan and emily's matching teal, well, yeah.
cat: named epiphany or Piff, from this night