At 7pm tonight the official launch of American Ash, my new collection of poems published by Ragged Sky, is happening. I’ll be reading with two wonderful poets — Joan Bauer and Richard St. John.
A dusty paint cloth of rust and ochre,
the desert before us as we pass shark fins
of agave & prickly-ribbed saguaro.
Sarah plants a butterfly bush
for the purple, nectar-rich splendor in a pot.
Hannah wants some pink extravagance
to beckon hummingbirds.
This August my niece Holly will drive
the Mother Road. She’s a writer & I say:
Don’t miss anything: not cornfields, chili fries,
maple syrup farms, not the Big Texan
Steak House in dusty Amarillo…
Smith frames: Tomoko Uemura in Her Bath
The mother cradles Tomoko, her misshapen daughter.
Light through a dark window.
A post-modern pietà.
In 1955, Swiss-born Robert Frank criss-crossed the United States. From 27,000 shots, 83 images: The Americans. Factory workers in Detroit, transvestites in New York City. Billowing American flags, gossamer-thin & torn. … Continue reading