A new issue of Lady Smith's "the City" zine of poetry and art is out-- "Fall issue, Year Zero: Learning to Swim."
Contains some of your favorite poets from Cleveland (and elsewhere), along with stunning visuals: check it out!
“Beziers, France” photo by Lady |
Stars that in California glitter hard and crystal
shimmer over our lake.
shimmer over our lake.
We eat pierogis and walleye
we read of killers who lure women with promise of love.
we read of killers who lure women with promise of love.
We drive by crumbling mansions:
millionaire’s row.
millionaire’s row.
Our emerald necklace is long as God’s arm.
Our children don’t ask why is the sky blue.
Our children don’t ask why is the sky blue.
We scorn jibes: our river burned first;
we founder in floods on Deadman’s Curve.
we founder in floods on Deadman’s Curve.
We tell dour tales of declining empire.
We read Derf and take pride in our funk.
We read Derf and take pride in our funk.
NASA Glenn lures us to starflight.
Our politicians star in the tabloids.
Our politicians star in the tabloids.
We make loud music and breed bitter genius.
We drink Nosferatu and Elliot Ness
We drink Nosferatu and Elliot Ness
Drunk on honeysuckle, day-lily, moonflower scent,
we make love on front porches in the blackout night.
we make love on front porches in the blackout night.
We wear pants with elastic waistbands
and thumb noses at New Yorker black dresses.
and thumb noses at New Yorker black dresses.
Our names are unspellable, five consonants in a row:
ski is not a sport to our city, but a family suffix.
ski is not a sport to our city, but a family suffix.
We consider moving, but where would we go?
What church in LA serves cabbage roll suppers?
What church in LA serves cabbage roll suppers?
We tell legends of freighters broken in two:
our lake is eerie, our tower is terminal.
our lake is eerie, our tower is terminal.
We watch cats slink, old sly cats with rumpled fur.
We prevail and grow old. Our stars shimmer.
We prevail and grow old. Our stars shimmer.
3 comments:
Thank you for spreading the word! I feel so rich having so many talented poets around.
Groovy . . . good stuff by good people.
You did it! You captured the city I grew up in, came of age in, couldn't wait to leave, haunts me in my old age!
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