Sitting around the poem table

Dear Friends,

Yesterday I walked over to the monthly poetry hour at the library. You know I love it. Many people brought poems relating to independence and freedom — the July theme. None were overtly political. Here’s a sampling:

“Blessings/ Beannacht” by John O’Donohue

“Moths” by Jennifer O’Grady

“I Love Uncertain Gestures” by Valerio Magrelli

“Politeness” and “Independence” by A.A Milne

“A Headstrong Boy” by Gu Chen

“Immortal City” by Indigo Moor, who is the poet laureate of Sacramento  I can’t find the poem online — It’s in the poetry collection Tule Review— not sure which volume, but suspect the most recent. Here’s an interview with Moor.

“Learning to Read” by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

“Rivers Run Through Me” by the Nicaraguan poet Gioconda Belli (My selection. Can’t find it online. It’s below.)

Rivers run through me

mountains bore into my body

and the geography of this country

begins forming in me

turning me into lakes, chasms, ravines,

earth for sowing love

opening like a furrow filling me with a longing to live

to see it free, beautiful,

full of smiles. 

I want to explode with love ...

Love,

k

Feeling at home here and also there

Dear Friends,

A sure sign it’s home is that it is good to get back there, and I was glad to be back in Sacramento yesterday afternoon. I had a great visit in San Francisco, and am beginning to feel at home in that city too. Lesley (who spent the SF time with me) and I first met in a Miami writers' group, and we’ve been friends for more than 40 years; we hope to get together at least once a year from now on. Lesley is a musician as well as a poet, and it was new to see the world through her eyes: she told me serious musicians practice five-plus hours a day; she loves Bach, then Mozart (or was it Beethoven?), then someone else, whose name I forget. In addition, she named her favorite poets, and we discussed how art relates to contemporary events. Whew!

Oh, and we walked and shopped and enjoyed great food.

On the train home I read, then napped, then drew buildings as we quickly passed them, using simple lines and shapes before they disappeared from my memory. Then I napped again.

Love,

k

San Francisco Bay from the Bay Bridge yesterday

Farmers Market Poem Sale

Dear Friends

Yesterday morning at the farmers market I bought a poem. Also some cauliflower. William Curius, the poet, set up his typewriter by the veggies and wrote poems on demand. You give him the subject (I said Zing!) and after few minutes -- voilá — your very own poem. You pay what you can. “Give me about 10 minutes,” William told me. “I’ve got another one ahead of you.” 

Love,
k

Artist Eduardo Carrillo, 1937-1997

My drawing of the artist Eduardo Carrillo — I was looking at one of his self-portraits at the Crocker Museum. The exhibit includes surreal oil paintings and large work celebrating Chicano life, but I prefer his more intimate drawings and watercolors.

It takes a week to fix a dent

Rosa update
Written Monday, July 2, 2018

Dear Friends,

Saturday’s tree crunch meant that today I had to take Rosa to the body shop, for what I supposed would be banging out the small dent in her hood. How naive. The man, whose name is Clark, told me car parts used to be made to be repaired, but now they’re made to be replaced. My hood is too sensitive to be banged back into shape, he said, and so he’s ordering a whole new hood and what I supposed would be a small job will take a week. No hurry. Rosa’s fine except for the dent; she's scheduled for her R&R at the end of the month.

Rosa's embarrassed, but I took a photo of the dent anyway.

Love,

k

Unlit on the 4th of July

For some reason early this morning I threw my sparklers in the trash. Unlit. It didn't feel right -- yesterday's combination of church and fireworks was abrasive.

Then I heard about the stupidity of lighting fireworks -- legal or not -- in our dry, fire-prone state. And then I read Monday's Sacramento Bee editorial saying the same thing.

Count me anti-fireworks from now on.

(Zing! has tried to tell me this for years.)

Really? Fireworks?

Dear Friends,

Yesterday afternoon I sold fireworks. Yes, I was that white-haired woman bobbing behind the big red TNT Fireworks sign at the intersection of Alhambra Boulevard and the Safeway parking lot. I tried to look like a grandma you would want to buy fireworks from. “Yeah,” a young man laughed as he walked past. “Let’s blow things up!”

I’m not really active in my church, but when I heard the call for volunteers to sell fireworks I couldn’t resist. Soon after I showed up, my co-workers sensed I was unfit for the sales part — I overcharged a nice man by $20.("Good! at least you over-charged him!”) So they sent me out to be the bobbing sign by the street. It was hot and maybe pointless — not fun. But I did learn stuff. Like there was a woman who rolled her cart by me on the sidewalk. She dropped her empty plastic water bottle and it rolled away in the wind. She was limping, so I ran ahead and got it. She tucked it away and then lingered, studying the pile of free community newspapers stacked inside a dispenser. When I had turned my back she quickly scooped up all of them but one. Maybe they are her sidewalk mattress tonight. 

I did buy some sparklers.

Love,

k