POETRY g+ NORTHWEST V OL U M E T E N • N U M B E R F O U R EDITOR David Wagoner WINTER 1969 —70 EDITORIAL CONSULTANTS Nelson Bentley, William H. Matchett EUGENE RUGGLES Seven Poems THOMAS JAMES COVER DESIGN Three Poems Ann Downs KEN SMITH Three Poems 10 Il ELIZABETH LIBBEY Cover from an original drawing by Bill Holm, Lecturer and Curator of Education 12 at the T h omas Burke Memorial Washington State Museum, Seattle. It is t i t le(1 Two Poems "Raven Bringing Light to the World," and about it Holm says: PETE WINSLOW Three Poems 13 In the midst of his transformation from the grandson of the owner of light to the bird Raven, Yehi, the T l i ngit culture hero, raises the moon to the J OHN HO L B R O O K sky with his hand while he grasps the lid of the chest containing the sun with his raven claw. A Clean Sweeping 15 DENNICE SCANLON Holm, a white man, has been called the best living Northwest Indian artist by Dream House 16 prominent authorities. WESLEY McNAIR Leaving the Country House to the Landlord 17 BOARD OF ADVISERS GIBBONS RUARK Two Poems 19 Leonie Adams, Louise Bogan, Robert Fitzgerald, Robert B. Heilman, Stanley Kunitz, Jackson Mathews, Arnold Stein MARILYN HACKER Exiles 21 ERNEST SANDEEN 22 POETRY NORTHWEST W IN TER 1969 — 70 V O LUME X, NUMBER 4 What To Do at the End JOHN MELLA 23 Published quarterly by the University of Washington. Subscriptions and matte. Two Poems scripts should b e sent t o P o etry No r t hwest, Parrington H a l l, U n i v ersity STEPHEN DUNN Washington, Seattle, Washington 98105. Not responsible for unsolicited matnt• Two Poems 24 scripts; all s ubmissions must be accompanied by a s t amped, self-addressetl envelope. Subscription rate, $8.50 per year; single copies, $1.00. JOAN STONE Two Poems 25 © 1970 by the University of Washington Distributed by B . D eBoer, 188 High Street, Nutley, N.J. 07110; and itt t h e JOHN JUDSON 26 West by L-S Distributors, 552 McAllister Street, San Francisco, Calif, 94ltt". The Lineage of Indian Ponies JOSEPH BEATTY A Prayer for the Living Room Furniture 27 P O E T R Y N O R T H W E S T DAVID ZAISS Child's Play WI N T E R 196 9 -7 0 M ORTO N M A R C U S From "The Santa Cruz Mountain Poems" 29 PAUL NELSON Eugene Ruggles Seven Poems Cargo . 30 V. H. ADAIR L INES FROt>I AN A L C O H O I .I C W A R D Notes from the Mental Hospital 31 PAUL HUNTER They lock us up when thc sun drops. Sabotage 32 I keep the senses of' five walls that begin to siveat. Across the yard DANIEL J. LANGTON they let the insane ivalk the «lark. A Poem About My Life 32 Any «lance of tlistract.ions ivill do f'or:i hand ivith not h ing h;ird to hold . MORTON D . P A LEY . Two Poems 34 GARY GILDNER I otitshoot thcI11;ill 'll. pool an(1 tlien shovel niy share of coal Harold Fogel Could Be Anywhere 35 into the television stove. I can eitlier JOHN H. STONE crown Inyself w ith clieckers ln the Bath 37 or I can be alone IRA SADOFF beneath the skii ts of a sliower. For Poets Grading Freshman Papers 38 A man comes this f'ar without courage TERRY REID until he opens himself' Two Poems 39 to find he's a tloor between tivo winds, KENNETH SALLS facing;i space that's <lraining, Schicklgruber Dances with the Rabbi 40 th;it hC s ConlC Ilovt hCI C, ROBERT HERSHON an«l unable to close. Two Poems 40 Though I ivrap myself thick JAMES DENBOER wit.h more Roethke an<I Blake, The Quail 43 behind the pails of coffee JOHN TAYLOR it's cold in sleep. Four Poems 46 Now tflere *s only the moon. A full November moon. Naile«l in the corner of a barre«1 window Change of Address ;in«l my ban<i a yard turning dark. Notify us promptly ivhen you change your mailing ad<lress. Send both the old address anil the new — and the ZIP co«le numbers. Allow us at least six weeks for processing the change. PO E'I' R y NORTHWEST H ITCH H I K I N G I N ' 1 0 A S P R IN G S T O R M G LIMPSE OF A N O L D i >IAN'S DEAT H I N TH E M I D D L E O F O H I O I see him reel near the cliff and fall through Near this gravel road a wind a hole in the ocean air• is opening the heads of trees. his rvhire face yanked from the night like a tooth. A branch of lightning breaks, clouds come together like boxcars. Glad the only ride in sight THE ROOM is a plow dug into the ground It's thirty below for me I lift my collar and walk, the sky packed around my face this January. The skin drifts thinking of Sherwood Anderson and the winter moves nearer. when he forgot who he was. I know the sun breeds in a Hake. To my right, cows with their calves are folding themselves together Just outside a street climbs upward like a herd of Rowers. sloping into buildings, They move as if the storm the Roor of this room is level except for shadorvs planted in the wood. were a barn above them. Their eyes cover me as t.he rain Tire warm quart of'wine is gone. begins nailing green against dirt. I pull the Roor up over me, as one wing of moonlight comes dorm to me — a fog in trousers. W A L K ING D O W N A N A LL E Y IN DE T R O I T ON TH E L O W ER E A ST SIDE There are never any tracks left beneath a lean-to of shadows the following morning Negroes hang over four checker players when I leave this room, and a rusted barrel lifting smoke the door opens like a vein. around a coffeepot. October circles easy in the alley, inhales, is lined with old heavy clothing. A HARNESS My mother is churning butter A few blocks down a Chevrolet between her knees factory shifts into its second gear on the porch of the farmhouse, of human bodies. The quart bottle there is no sound of the steps, climbing from hand to hand only a small boy dragging a harness leaps once more, and refills heaped around both shoulders as it sinks beneath the ashes. across the short grass. She wonders about her brothers, When an old man reaches out the ones still setting out his dark face packed with scars from the fishing village in Nova Scotia and clearsthe board in one move, pulling old nets, the boards, their lives, laughter opens against the brick tire holes shining in them. like a match, like iodine, The harness spreads open behind the boy. burning along the Detroit River. Small bits ol'darkness fall out of it. POETRY N O R 1 H W E S T Il. ll.;>s hung i>ll u rute» n the b'u'l> Thomas James Three Poems >(eighing;>s much;>s th(. boy, SNAKEBITE old(.v thtu> tl>c ho>'sc >vho u >ll pull t h>s sun>n>c> tl'n'oc>gh >t. Now I '>In gct t >ng 1>ght.;>s cot>or> ct>ndy• Hc listens to thc dust bc hind 1>in> Out of the two red holes in my heel tt>vning over on its b;>ck, Infinity pours, goodbye to all of me. its underside l>urr>s it> the Xlichig>n light. It was plea~ant to >catch my lcg begin to swell; His sho>tlder bh>des unf'old in the le;>>1>e>. An incredible heacliness >cashed over me, And he> h;>nds moving;>bove the cl>u> n I didn't feel a thit>g. The color of a bluebot tie, look to him like two pieces of u atev if' tl>ey could f'ccl p;>in;>g;>in, The sky hit my skin like water f'ron> a pitcher. gathering togetl>(.r I remember only a limber bvown stick >(hat is left of the morning's mill . Without any f'angs, then the cool white stretcher As f'av '>s it c: an con>c f'rom WI>cve I became part of an unamusingoke j the cn>pty >'oad erupt>cs >nto hc> lr>p. And the sun became a singular golcl adder, 1'he thick smell of' t l>e le;>ther begins Which gat.hered its constricted shape and struck. in the bones of' the 1>oy's n>ou>1>, as he lifts it ovev the knees First I dream of wool, and then of wat.er, of tl>c olcl hired man 1'he bridge gone out under my f'ootsolcs. who >(ill rul> oil into it. Sleep eddies under everything pure as a colt's star. These ladies in >vhite speak a mouthful ol bells. They let tl>e sleep rush out of me like ai>. LOVE'S >I IC'1<A1 ION Out of an innertube, smudging their cvhite >Calls.