Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Watershed Review

For my second literary event of the semester I went to the Watershed Review’s launch party at the 1078 gallery. The first thing i noticed when I entered the room was the way the chairs and microphones were set for some kind of reading or speaker which, turned out to be a band with Professor Matt Brown rockin the guitar to the sultry tone of the singer’s voice. There was beautiful, playful and thought-provoking artwork on the walls and tables for sale and auction. One of the pieces I really liked was the pastel tea cups that were stacked since I am an avid tea drinker myself and I just thought those were so sweet and playful. Likewise the fox in the collared shirt and vest was cute; it reminded me of something that might be matched as an illustration for something like The Wind In The Willows or the Mr. Toad’s Adventures books. There was one art piece that had Rackel Baumer and I pretty perplexed; It looked like it was supposed to be some kind of bird from the hindquarters of it’s body being feathered and it’s long stork-like legs which stood among some kind of tall reed-grasses. However, where it’s neck and face should have been there was what looked like a very large growth hanging down from the neck region and where a face might’ve been it looked more like what you might see under a microscope when looking at a virus reaching for a white blood cell with little arm tendrils reaching out into the air towards nothing. I think the favorite art piece for both rachel and I was a print of a tree that seemed to be going through all the seasons and times of day at once in which the vivid colors and the technique used has created an utterly beautiful image.
           
             After checking out the art for a while we sampled a delicious array of cheese and crackers and dips and fruit. It was this part of the event where I found inspiration for my next poem “Cheez CRAVING Cheese” when I discovered my best friends extreme affinity for cheese which, amused me to no end. We then had the opportunity to hear some of our favorite classmates speak. It was really nice to hear the editor’s I know like Trish and Tim and Stan get up there and have a chance to speak about all the hard work that went into getting the Watershed up and running after seeing them bite their nails over getting everything done in time for the big unveiling as-well-as getting to hear how rewarding it was. All of the editors picked some really great pieces to read. I loved the one from the waitresses perspective about the dad who wanted King Crab legs for his little pink daughter who had Leukemia and how both author and reader were able to convey the displaced anger and stress and frustration of the father. I loved the speaker’s voice in the piece about the mother leaving and the woman reflecting back on herself as a girl; I felt an odd connection to this person and I wanted to go home and finish reading the rest of it. The one about the professor who’s dad always gave them watches was funny and I love the detail the author goes into in describing them. I can’t remember the exact title or author of the poem but there was one that was read that’s imagery was fantastic. I wanted to sit and study it so I could make sense of the story it was telling behind the imagery. My only clue in rediscovering this one is that I know the last couple lines were about a scarab beetle with a secret message scrawled across its belly being a secret name for jesus. Regardless this was a beautiful send-off for the watershed filled with beautiful sounds and images which I enjoyed thoroughly.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Kitchen poem:The Last Chance Double-Cherry Pie


The Last Chance Double-Cherry Pie

 

There was a scream of alarm from downstairs

warning her of a smoke-stack rising.

Once the start of something great,

now a pan of onyx ash and burnt sugar stench.

 

Let it be noted that the ash was once woven;

lattice of dough roads designed with such attention to detail.

Every dip and climb and curve of its shell creating

rows and rows of perfectly parallel lines which

then formed perfect picture frames for the rich ruby

sweetness, that would have been.

 

Double-cherry pie, reduced to a smoldering crisp.

Her eyes were ablaze and when she reached the kitchen,

she glared at him holding the remains of her

 once-sweet creation.

 

Shifting her gaze, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry

at the sight of his oven mitt’s design.

Its cheerful cherry twosomes dangled from

dainty stems which, seemed to spring

 from beneath the pretty pairs of new lime leaves;

it was an offensive black backdrop that set this scene.

 

It was too much irony—her patience had been spent.

 

The pie did not survive this time.

He knew just how, and what it meant.

No sheepish smile could diffuse

her ire for his negligence.

He knew that he did it and wanted to fix it.

But he’d lost his chance this time.

 

It was a double-cherry Pie, one of a kind,

dressed to perfection, carefully tended,

and molded— just for him.

It could have been epic but,

instead he just let it die that day.

 

She couldn’t trust him, to keep her pie alive

Admittedly, she’d reached her end this time

The only ingredients she had left to remake it

were all—expired.