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,
filled with banality and booze,
filled with rain and thunder and periods of
drought, a poem is a city at war
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,
where dogs bark at night, and chase away
the flag; a poem is a city of poets
most of them quite similar
and envious and bitter. . .
a poem is this city now
50 miles from nowhere
9:09 in the morning,
the taste of liquor and cigarettes,
no police, no lovers, walking the streets
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.
poem: bukowski
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
Comments
And now I'm going to sing to you -
And I need you now tonight
and I need you more than ever
and if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
and we'll only be making it right
cause we'll never be wrong together
.
.
.
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
xoxoxoxooxoxooxoxxooxoxox
x
Big, Big, Hug Pretty Girl,
Claire
and thinking of rereading the Clan of the Cavebear books. so many people keep talking about them. it's been since i was 12 or so since i read them. i always joke that they were my first porn because of all the randy sex scenes with jondular's throbbing member...is that TMI?
love ya pretty lady!
i wish i knew what songs you all were singing. i don't ever sing, but i always have a blast at kareoke.
fun video at the end there. it's great that you've documented so much of your life. love leonard cohen.
Karaoke looks awesome, can we do that the next time we come up? (Already planning ahead...)
a raggedy trove of salty treasures and rusty wonders
love.