Rimbaud Redux

Taking off

On Verlaine’s cherubim, an angelic gun-
Running rum-soaked poet popping
Double doses of spiked Double Bubble gum.

Kraft's Classic TV Commercial "I've Got Six Seconds to Sing" Remixed Expressly for Poetasters

Try craft’s pottage sleaze,
You’ll love it, jeez, poets love it—
Try craft’s pottage sleaze!

Bestiality in the Bestiary

Oh, my God!

Daemons fornicating with all manner
Of lowly beasts and almighty Zeus

On top of it all!

George Oppen and Anastasios G. Zambaras

Two of my favorite faces in silent conversation.

I took my father’s picture in 1969, the same year George Oppen won the Pulitzer; each time I pick up this ancient, dog-eared copy of his Collected Poems, I am struck by how much he resembles my father and vice-versa. I also find myself wondering if this resemblance had anything to do with my first being attracted to Oppen’s poetry when I was a grad student at the University of Washington in the early 70s. Whatever the reason, I consider myself fortunate for having had these two mentors as beacons that helped me find my way in a world notorious for making people feel lost.

Hobo

Poems should be succulent
Endless rows

Of oranges arching over
Parched country roads.