Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Reading to Celebrate the Release of Ed Dorn's COLLECTED POEMS

Friday October 4, 7:30 p.m.
2179 Bancroft Way
Berkeley, CA

with Jennifer Dunbar Dorn
and guests:

Maya Dorn
Micah Ballard
Eileein O’Malley Callahan
Steve Dickison
Patrick Dunagan
Stephen Emerson
Gloria Frym
Owen Hill
Joanne Kyger
Duncan McNaughton
Kevin Opstedal
Cedar Sigo
Sunnylyn Thibodeaux

Featuring historic recordings of Ed Dorn
from the SFSU Poetry Center Archives.

Low income $5 at the door
no one turned away for lack of dinero.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Gallons of kool-aid spilling into the sea

There was no place else to go
so I parked it in the spot reserved for those
who have a history of violence
& waited as the tide rushed in
across the sand

No music yet the palm trees on
Beach Street seem to be
gearing up for a rendition of
“Hooray for Hollywood”
buried in a slice of cold ocean water
bite down                     release
burnt kelp, blue agave, morning glory

I know, I read it backwards
on hands & knees     
beneath the display window
A suntan neatly folded over the
balcony of my heart

Silver wrists & fog
drifting in on the wings of Chuang Tzu’s butterfly
as they affect a tropical storm
forming in the Pacific
south of Baja
                                    & the way shadows
fall against her cheek at sundown
as I excavate a smile

5:31 p.m. & the sun is like a turquoise ring
on a finger of fog

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Two Boat Dreams

I was on the deck of a yacht
anchored just inside the reef
at Tahiti
drinking beer & smoking
cigarettes with my brother-in-law
who was telling me how
we could make a million dollars
teaching the Tahitians
how to make a really good hamburger

I visit Joanne & Donald who are living on a massive houseboat
                               a triple-decker Donald calls it.
Joanne says they’re sailing it to Fiji soon.
Everyone speaks Russian in Fiji, Joanne tells me.
She is bestowing great wisdom upon me.
I know this is true because I can’t understand any of it.
As I’m leaving she hands me two books:
The Tropic of Concrete
& A Streetcar Named Virgil.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Aqua-Man Meets the Mermaid with the Palomino Seahorse Tattoo

Thus it was revealed
Palm trees travel in packs of three
but when the drink hits the fan
in the middle of your
underwater ballet lesson
the resonance is as derivative a consequence
as a ransom note
written in sea-green lipstick

Drizzle.  Splash.  Trickle.  Blink.
I recorded every wing-
                        flap & fin-splash from
Point Sur to Topanga
            with my Yater spoon strumming
                                    the valves & hinges
as your kelp-lit eyes
                        ignited the prevailing haze

Treading Water
The fog is drifting in now the
sidewalk is wet & the air tastes like
            because that’s really what it is
what we are
                        damp & shimmering
in the first light

The Drift
I said I’d give all 7 and a half oceans
to know what you’re thinking
tilted in the fog
like a bikini in the refrigerator
sweating out the last day of summer

After You’ve Gone
Watching wet foot
prints evaporate
on sun
bleached pavement

Thursday, September 12, 2013

My Name is Ozymandias (But You Can Call Me Ozzy)

Monday morning has a way of slipping
into Friday afternoon
but we bubble along as though nothing
low-riding beneath the weather
irrevocably stoned
& stalling out on the sand-swept pavement
stretching far & away
& my smog blue eyes go blank
like the slick rock of exposed tidepools
because whenever you flip a coin
I always call the darkside
remembering your reflection in a burnt spoon
like the face of Elvis in a tortilla
w/that sneer of cold command
hip & disdainful
but cormorants slice the sky into quatrains anyway
& the domino effect is more like a
flotation device than a popsicle
wrapped in a 20 dollar bill
the balance in trade
walking in on flames
like Mayakovsky
w/a dog named Snake Eyes

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Just the molecules & me

Skidding around the corner
fishtailing like a big rig in a typhoon
it’s all about the sin of angels & the roof
caving in
            the danger inherent in a universe
that gets too close
                        like the string attached is
tied to a tractor hauling 20 tons of sunsets

            & like a forgotten movie star
            sitting in the dark of an empty theater
            no one leaps from the balcony
            into a shot-glass because the escape scene was
            so real you could feel the rushing
            water rising up around you sweeping you

                        Acceleration, the dawn’s mist & dark
                        gods beyond the reef

The late summer air here is as thick as a tear-

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Do the Tsunami

The visible damp in the bending mirror
                        as translucent as it is opaque
            rising & falling in the roll & ache
of the swell
                        all deep green calypso as might
restring the seabreeze anointed by our
                                    several interpretations
swept across the drumroll sand where
                        diesel whispers flawlessly thread
the beach eucalyptus
            & the silver bridge to dreamless sleep

Sunday, September 1, 2013

I never knew when to say when

Your little heart flips

maybe spins off a pirouette

the way a page torn from a dream flutters

as it falls

                            & I wait where the gull’s

call pierces the thundering

              concrete the wash of foam the

                            wet sand sliding beneath my

                                    feet the raw mist relentless

                                                as drifting ashes of neon . . .

              the sky dropping in to add a little


                                    Your jungle canopy

                                                & the shattered glass

with a seabreeze

                                     strumming the fence wire

& the fortune palms

               like the tide

                                                whispering your name