Winter 1995-96
Total Page：16
File Type：pdf, Size：1020Kb
Enizoa POETRYg NORTHWEST David tVagoner + h1ANAUINLI En)TOI( VOLUME THIRTY-SIX NUMBER POUR Robin Seyd'rietl WINTER 199$-1996 E I > I'I'0 EA I L Cons 1> L'I'AN'IN Nelson Bentley (1916-1990), tVilliam H. Mntcbett SNARon FAIN Three Poems HEREERYSoorr CovEa Drsicn Three Poems Allen L. Auvil JANE ELLEN CLAssra Two Poems Turoooaa DseeE Coverfrom a photo of Canadian geese Two Poems 10 OLENA KALYYIAK DAVIS Like Kerosene 14 Susan Jonnson BoAno or Aovisras Retreat .. 15 Robert B. Heilman, Stanley Kunitz, Arnold Stein Emn BDMELE Robert Fitzgerald, 1910-1985 Two Poems 16 MELISSA KWASNY Snowmelt 18 RODNEYJONES Two Poems POETRY NORTHWEST WINTER 1995-96 VOLUME XXXVI, NUMBER 4 Ksnu RAFALArr Pnbli shed <Pmrtcrly bv the Univers)tyof)V<>sh)ngton. Ro<un 201 0 Administratiun Bnil< I Winterreise . ing, Box 351240 Scuttle, VVA 95195-1240. Subscripti<ms an<I manuscripts shouklbc sent tu Peen» Nu>tl>u'est, 4045 Br<«>khs>Avenne N E, University oDVashington, Seattle, VVA E.C. Bvaaows 95105-6261. Not responsible for m>solicited manoscripts; all submissions must I«' The Coliy Birds acts>mpanied by a st;m>pcd selt)sdclresse<l ence)at« . Snbscription rates: U.S,. S IS IR> p< r)'ear, single copies 45 00; Purcign and Canadian, 517 00 (U,S,) peryear, single copies BARRAaa SAVADGE HORYON <>,550 (U 5 ) Hair 25 PAYEICIA COEDICKE !ie<xxxl-class pustage pa>clai Seattle, teasbington. Treehouse . 26 Pox>Ms>Yea<Send addrc>s el<a«ge> lo puetry Nortlnvest, 4045 Sr<«>1l><a Area>m NE, Uaiw'mil>«>f )Vali>ingnn>. Seattle, IIA 69105 5 61 ERIN MAIONE Published by tbe Univcrsih of Vvashington Three Poems 30 ISSN 0032-2113 Phn>oh>l ttol>in Si«>fried JEANNE LONMANN The Legicians . P O E T R Y N O RT H W E ST Tnouss Bausn WINTE R 1 995-96 Old Man MAIILENE BLESEINC Say the Fathers. ROR CARNEY Two Poems LACRIE LAMON The Poem .. 38 Pmtir DAcrr Self-portrait in Lynd .. 39 JOEL FRIEOERICN Pickled Pig's Feet. Sharon Fagn Three Poems PATRICIA FARCNOLI Location 41 A BIRTH SARAN CORNAM Poem Ending ln Denial. 6:31 P.M.,sOUTBEAET CORNER OF MCALLlsTER AND pobm A homeless mporteefound a bloody,one-hour-old infant TIIEVOII WERT KNAPP ...Ne took the neukorn ta..a fire detva bm f put ling Two Poems . the leceriforhelp. Pokeslocated lheposstMe sceneo f ehgdbtrth...andfollowed a Mood tra!L ..findingthe baby' s mother, uho u as honu less, lying in some bushes. The suspect was booked. — The City Voice Polite Bfoner In front of City Hall, a block from the Board of Health, just after rush hour, before the sun had set, at the spot where the number five bus picks up passengers every ten minutes, down the street from the federal building, across the plaza from the library, above the underground parking lot, longbefore fog drenched the bushes, two blocks from Symphony Hall where Ozawa was expected to arrive at any minute, not far from the retro-fitted freeway, at the hour when waitresses were lighting candles Are You Moving? lf you wish tc conmlue receiving your subscription copies ol' POETRY NOETHYVEST, be sure Io notify this aSce ia advance. Send both your old address and new —snd the ZIP Code nutnbers. and hghts in apartment towers flickered on, Once endless, sun-lit, sky and street six miles (rom the San Andreas Fault outside tbe front bay window. four miles from an ocean, near the end of the century, It wasJune. Magnolia petals, soft on the other side of the globe from Bethlehem. and wet as sleep, heaped on the bricks. Magnolias cupped erect on branches. ISLA MVJERES: WEEKS BEFORE THE BREAKDOWN We would lean out and touch them. When electricity failed and the full moon Skin, rose-red folds of the body, spilled into that restaurant gilding bones and moving veins beneath. We memorizedeach other patio tiles and wine glasses, throwing shawls of light across our bodies and the musicians from the Andes and knowledge led to a promise kept on playing and the locals came out that, by its very nature, failed. of their houses to listen, did you know But we left that house believing. that a numb part of me had already risen into white air, was floating above chimneys and phone wires, concrete rubble heaped on the seawall, Herbert Scott Three Poems above the bleached skin of the Caribbean, above reefs, islands, whole continents, the planet in its envelope ofbreath. TO DEATH, FOR MY FATHER When the drummer in the red camisa threw back his shoulders with a sort of moan Death, this man and the others stomped their feet, is dancing. See coaxed dreams from those mountain flutes, how you can't see did you hear me whisper I msght nwke it. his moves, so quick Tonight might lastforever. his feints confuse, counter your low illicit hay-maker ON SEEING THE PLACE WHERE I FIRST MADE LOVE harvesbng air, nothing, which makes you It all looks so narrow now, the house, appear foolish brick sidewalk buckled over maple roots, as he bends double Marlborough Street, a strip of pewter sky with sputtering laughter, and you swing wedged inabove, evetything unchanged again, over his head, since nineteen sixty except for scale. losing balance, falling, That, and the play of light. surprised at his face twisted above you, counting. POETRY NORTHWEST THE MOST TERRIBLE AND BEAUTIFUL THING THE SONG THE GROCER SINGS The earth opening, bodies startled We have come up short. from their graves, lungs like butterflies. The shelves are halE-empty. Hearts like matches striking The registers won't check out. catch, take hold, not all We have figures to show at once, but each in its own dark time. what comes in has gone out "Is this the moment we were promisedP" but someone neglected to pay. They touch each other like the blind. A father is fumbling his pants. The past is future, the future closed A mother is pregnant with goods. forever in the past. Each thing returns Fat rustles our bones, stealing to its beginnings, crops to the fields, pasture over muscle like a white shadow. to woods, rivers clear to pure thin tongues. Machines are put to sleep like toothless dogs. The barter for groceries is not appetite, or flesh The assassin sips his breakfast coffee sweetened by need, or the love robbed of purpose. Rain climbs tlie morning sky. At lirst, a blessing, of breath. It is cash in the till, and we are short. the dead in the arms of their loved ones. And yet, these poor souls, how mystified Someone is eating our lives. and fierce to see their lives erased, Someone is going to pay. to know the certain term of infancy, the seed unspent as fathers steal them from their earthly home. How bitter is that death called birth as our brief time begins, is spent, and God will not relent. POETRY NORTHWEST JsssssEl/ess 6EssssP' Two Poems SIX WAYS TO HIDE Eat yourself into a greatcoat ANOTHER TIME of sleepy flesh. Who would think I was delivering my daughter to look for you to college. Everything inside yourselfP eighteen years can gather was the dragging weight Be porcupine-ish. Wake to write of the U-Haul. For ten hours dour lines in the dark. she slept, curled No one will bother you away from me, her buttocks up against the shaft. in a penthouse with a broken elevator, Was she gearing up for some a perch on Everest. reckless futurep What was Fly off I thinking! Along the way there are places to an early retirement. Hurl spit, shake that beckon us to stop, or warn yourself hard last chancel When I knew and shoot back my mother was dying, like a bad monkey. when I saw her shriveling Lose yourself around a hardness in a fifth. that ached to be revealed, we talked about everything Or be as genteel unimportant. It was easy . as the chameleon. Nod and smile two routes falling from the leaf of a chair; west and south to empty out agree to disappear. in Atlanta. The nextday Imovedherin. Id idwhat mothers do. It was work. Hard work. Sometimes the body is the only way we have. POETRY NORTttWEST Theodore Deppe Two Poems who's always at his side, even sleeps in his barrow. And thin Lydia, a twelve-year-old who answered all my questions, then asked could I afford a whole rouble to lie with herp LETTER TO SIJVORIN AatoaChehhoe, Sahholia letasuI off thecoast of Sihesta I forced myself last week to watch a whipping, —July 11, l Sac A doctor like myself examined the man they meant to break, pronounced him fit for ninety lashes. Greetings, friend, from the world's end! You were right, the tea is tenible! We are moored at last off Sakhalin Island. The flogger dealt five blows from the left, live from the right, Because there's no true harbor we' ll sleep on board tonight, impassive as a teacher belting a child. It's not the same, I know, but I kept seeing my father, cross the bay of reefs by daylight. Six thousand miles of iloods, thieves, mud, mud and tedium how he'd lift the cane above his head, reaching for more force. between me and home —I almost understand I was five. He made me kiss the rod that taught me justice. I fled the guardhouse, The convict's cries followed me why you think this place can never concern us.