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In fact if you view this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YuTuUAl66Rg and imagine Lugosi as the usual literary apprehension of war and the skull and the guys behind it as the usual poesy of war this poem is the dwarf -- doing what the dwarf does -- or isn't it pretty to think so? On 11/1/07, joe green <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > Yeah -- the last two lines make it (for little old me). > > I ran across this in an interview with Mark Strand: > > "Strand began publishing poems in the 1960s, and says the status of poetry > has changed since that time. "I think that poetry in the '60s and the '70s > in America was a lot more popular, because they were writing a lot against > the war in Vietnam and we had a huge audience of people who wanted to hear > us. Today, you know, no one listens. People are writing poems against the > war in Iraq and no one notices. Things have changed. I think that the big > difference is that in the '60s and '70s, there was the draft. The war hit > the middle class. Today there is no draft. And in addition, wars have become > a lot more abstract than they were." > > Maybe -- or maybe always were. The horses in my verse come right out of > the Wright poem recently under such intense and numinous scrutiny. All the > tired, pretty horses. > > > On 11/1/07, kasper salonen <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > > > well that was quite a ride. I wanted to stop reading at one point, and > > I thought I had, but turns out I was sucked in. this is sad, I don't > > like it for its sadness, but for its sad poetry I guess. I like it. > > > > KS > > > > On 01/11/2007, joe green <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > > A Short History > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I have been very good. > > > > > > > > > > > > I have been very good for 8 years. > > > > > > > > > > > > I told my wife that our children looked like tiny skeletons only > > > > > > three times. > > > > > > > > > > > > When I spat blood I did so discreetly into monogrammed hankies. > > > > > > > > > > > > I told my wife that at last I had a single integrated action plan > > (SIAP). > > > > > > > > > > > > The time I went to Disneyland and blew the head off the hippo in the > > > > > > jungle ride was an aberration. > > > > > > > > > > > > The time I spent 2 weeks in the Rocket Motel with a topless dancer > > > > > > named Baby Madonna was truly unusual. > > > > > > > > > > > > I no longer think I am a wolf. > > > > > > > > > > > > When I vomit on family holidays I do so with some grace and never at > > > > > > table. > > > > > > > > > > > > It has been years since I insisted on going into the woods to shit. > > > > > > > > > > > > I have been interested in organizational development. > > > > > > > > > > > > I no longer drink wine from bottles wrapped in paper bags > > > > > > with guys named Spider and Bullethead. I especially avoid doing > > > > > > this in our driveway. > > > > > > > > > > > > I am meek at work and participate with enthusiasm in group activities. > > > > > > > > > > > > When I run in 10 kilometer races it is hard to tell that I itch all > > > > > > over and am imagining that I am being chased by hearts with mouths. > > > > > > > > > > > > I only speak to the dog in my command voice. > > > > > > > > > > > > I go dutifully to all the Vietnam movies to learn what I should > > > > > > think. I explain to my son what a dustoff is. I do not > > > > > > mention the fact that to me it looks like people in the audience > > > > > > have the heads of hyenas and jackals. > > > > > > > > > > > > My son looks like a tiny skeleton. > > > > > > > > > > > > When he was born I went down in the cellar and built him a coffin. > > > > > > I will send this with him when he goes into the army. From Dad. > > > > > > > > > > > > If all dads did this it would save our government considerable > > expense. > > > > > > > > > > > > Dads should also build coffins for the sons our sons will kill. > > > > > > > > > > > > I have a complete set of plans for coffins for sons of many > > > > > > nationalities. Spider told me that this was a waste of time. > > > > > > Just send along some extra-strength garbage bags. He said. > > > > > > And what about the mommas and babies. He said. And, anyway, > > > > > > you dumb shit. He said. There ain't nothing to bury most of the > > > > > > time. He said. You dumb old fucker. You think we're back in > > Vietnam. > > > > > > > > > > > > I still think that it would demonstrate our compassion. > > > > > > > > > > > > I often imagine my daughter on fire. > > > > > > > > > > > > I was reading "Come Away, Joe" to her and she was curled up in my arms > > and > > > > > > I imagined that she was hit with white phosphorus and burned from the > > > > > > inside out. The white phosphorus looked like a star in her belly. > > > > > > I imagined that she was also hit with napalm. Have some jelly, honey. > > > > > > > > We called people burnt up by napalm "crispy critters." This was > > > > > > a popular breakfast cereal at the time. > > > > > > > > > > > > Here is how I am telling you I make love to my wife. > > > > > > > > > > > > I imagine that we are both dead and holding each other. We are under > > > > > > a hill. The hill looks over a blue and peaceful town. The town > > > > > > is not a town. It is the shadow of a tone. The bank, the church, > > > > > > the little stores and tiny houses tremble and dissolve in a soft mist. > > > > > > No-one can see the town. It is not in any government records or on > > any > > > > > > maps. Our children live there. > > > > > > > > > > > > For a long time I was unemployed. I drove a car the color of a cloud. > > > > > > I would pick up our children from school. Your father comes for you > > > > > > in a car the color of a cloud. > > > > > > > > > > > > At night I imagine that our dead cat is walking in the garden. > > > > > > I imagine I am in the garden and she treadles my chest. She licks > > > > > > my eyes thinking the moon's rays are milk. Her eyes shine with love. > > > > > > Lay down with me lay down in the humility of death. > > > > > > > > > > > > You see that I am very sentimental. > > > > > > > > > > > > This morning we all sat at breakfast and I said "I am worried > > > > > > about Goethe." > > > > > > > > > > > > "Why, Dad?" My son said. > > > > > > > > > > > > "Ok, dear." My wife said. "You have been good for eight years. > > > > > > You can have that party." > > > > > > > > > > > > This is a lie. My wife left me 10 years ago. She lives with our > > > > > > children and her new husband in a very nice rambler on a cul-de-sac > > > > > > in the very nice state of California. > > > > > > > > > > > > I often imagine that my children are dream children. > > > > > > > > > > > > I still live in the same house which is where I grew up. My father is > > dead. > > > > > > My mother is dead. They are buried in Fairview cemetery. Just off > > Oak > > > > > > street. Warrensville, Pa, 19380. > > > > > > > > > > > > They are on a very nice cul-de-sac. > > > > > > > > > > > > Old joke. > > > > > > > > > > > > I spoke to my mother the other night. > > > > > > > > > > > > "Do you have your gloves on?" She asked. > > > > > > > > > > > > "Yes." I asseverated. > > > > > > > > > > > > I came home from Vietnam when my father died. > > > > > > > > > > > > "Your father died." They said. > > > > > > > > > > > > "Complete this form." They said. "Be back in two weeks." They said. > > > > > > > > > > > > When I got off the plane in Honolulu they hung flowers around my neck. > > > > > > > > > > > > Then they unloaded the bodies. > > > > > > This was back when wars were really fucked up. > > > > > > > > > > > > When I saw my father in the coffin I saw that they put glasses on him. > > > > > > He only wore glasses to read. They wanted a homey look. I vomited > > > > > > in the men's room. I held my mother at the grave. Her cloth coat > > > > > > smelled the same as it did when I was little. > > > > > > > > > > > > We went home to the funeral meats which were Vienna sausages in tomato > > > > > > sauce. This is how a lot of people live. My cousin turned on the TV > > > > > > to watch a football game. True. He was down in the basement. True. > > > > > > Other males were enjoying the game. I threw my father's hammer > > > > > > through the screen. Incoming. I kicked my cousin in the face. > > > > > > Everyone was embarrassed. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Here's who was dead when I came back. > > > > > > > > > > > > Daniel Mitchinok > > > > > > > > > > > > Carlos Gonzalez > > > > > > > > > > > > John Rollins > > > > > > > > > > > > William Latoff > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Gross weight: about 710 lbs. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I bought a tape recorder to record my thoughts about war and letters > > > > > > to my mother. > > > > > > > > > > > > Here are my thoughts about war as recorded by me at Landing Zone > > > > > > X-Ray adjacent to the Chu Pong Range: > > > > > > > > > > > > Here is a continuation of those thoughts as recorded by me trekking > > > > > > overland with the 5th Cav: > > > > > > > > > > > > Here are my thoughts as I surveyed the 800 dead of a famous battle > > > > > > that you can read about in a coffee table book available at > > > > > > a discount rate from Barnes and Noble: > > > > > > > > > > > > My letters to mother were equally eloquent. > > > > > > > > > > > > Is this too easy? Yes. > > > > > > > > > > > > Do you want to know the truth? > > > > > > > > > > > > My wife told me she was leaving. I am tired of this shit. > > > > > > Blah. Blah. She said. > > > > > > > > > > > > I asked her to wait. "Don't pack yet." I said. > > > > > > > > > > > > I went to the mall and bought a camera. Plenty of film. > > > > > > > > > > > > When I came home she was crying. She was on the couch. > > > > > > > > > > > > I took pictures of every room in the house. > > > > > > I opened every closet and drawer and took pictures. > > > > > > I took her picture. > > > > > > When the kids came home I took their pictures. > > > > > > > > > > > > They left. > > > > > > > > > > > > Then her mother and her brothers came over and took everything. > > > > > > > > > > > > It took me two years to complete the reconstruction. Now I have > > > > > > a lifesize wife weeping on the couch. My son sits at his desk > > > > > > and plays Pac Man. My daughter plays with her doll. > > > > > > Some of that shit was hard to find. > > > > > > > > > > > > You understand. You are also sentimental. > > > > > > > > > > > > One year I drove to California to see my children. In the car the > > > > > > color of a cloud. In Oklahoma I woke up at dawn and went outside > > > > > > the motel room. It was next to a pasture. There were horses in > > > > > > the pasture. I stood at the fence. The horses were the color of > > > > > > the dawn. They came to me. > > > > > > > > > > > > Then I kicked in the bedroom door. > > > > > > > > > > > > Shot this picture. > > > > > > > > > > > > Reader. Rider. Horses. > > > > > > > > > > > > Slaked. Plausive. Ignorant. > > > > > > >