A Woodburners We Recommend Publication 2004 series

 

BREEZE

who’s that waving
to me when coming
out the door —

ferns
MIRROR

rain

on

leaf
MISTER PRESIDENT

I can’t remember how many operations
More than most will have in a lifetime
Just on his face
After a Humvee he rode
With four others was blown
Into a ball of flames in one
More somewhere of a downtown Iraq
Far from anyone’s home and no one
Seems to get that point or that he
Is nineteen years now very old
STEPPING OUT

He’s got the car, the job, the girl
But he’s losing everything else —
Wondering what that might be
THE PLAN

Nothing
is
making
any
sense

so
I’m
going
to start
now

join me?
WOODLANDERS

She sat in the last of a summer sun
Her eyes closed
All ocean
ALL IN THE FAMILY

He got very high with a good friend
They sat out in the cold, snowflurries,
In the friend’s car and grooved to Pink Floyd
He tried to convey this coming back into the house with us
YOUNG LOVE

He said he couldn’t take being without his girl
I asked what was worse: the time away from his girl
Or that longer time without any girl of any kind

He got back to work
MIRROR IMAGE DIE

It’s incredible
How our god loving troops
Storm across a desert landscape
To fight insurgents who chant back
God Is Great!
MAN AT HIS BEST

Working way up in the woods with stone
No chain saw, no loud tools, no engine

Just me and the trees’ leaves
Trickling as they fall
YOU’D BE SO NICE TO COME HOME TO

Susan I love I have loved a long time
We’ve kissed one another goodnight

Over 11,000 times —
Still not enough
JUICE

She’s fruit when I look at her
Fruit when I hold her
Fruit when I kiss her
All parts
AFTER SOME NIGHTMARES

Lighten up, she advises
With the greatest smile in all the world

Since we sleep together
You’d think I would
MOTHERLESS CHILD

They think of him as a crazy-man
shirtless in the summer months,
old pants, no shoes or socks
often seen on his hands and knees
cleaning the sidewalk, right down
to the dirt and grime between the cracks
of the cement — the place where if you
stepped on it as a child would break
your mother’s back — and so he cleans
through to winter now in sweatshirts
and some found boots, ranging through
the town park picking up all the tossed
paper, refuse, each cigarette butt that
we throw away carelessly and with
no regard to the earth and still it’s
we who call him crazy
NEW WORLD

No matter how long we live in snow country
On the first day of real snow falling, sticking on the ground
We go to a window all together and look, like seeing
Land after months and months at sea
THREE’S COMPANY

Our son shares most of the secrets
About his best friend Billy
The dope smoking
The quitting college
The lies to his parents
So when Billy comes to visit
He smiles like Eddie Haskell
And tells us college is good
Life is straight
His parents are fine
Which leaves us hallucinating
OLD COLONIAL LIVING

The fire is almost down
First felt on the legs

When it reaches the waist
Go to bed

 

This is the second book of a trilogy including Woodcutter's Autumn and a forthcoming title due over the winter of 2005. Bob Arnold's most recent books of poems are Acres (Twelve Bells Press, UK) and Cairn (tel-let). He lives and works with his family in the back hills of Vermont.


More books by Bob Arnold available

 

WOODBURNERS WE RECOMMEND PUBLICATION SERIES 2004

Now available ~

Bob Arnold.You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To. Longhouse, 2004. Fine folded booklet with wrap around band. Limited edition. $7.50

As an act of goodwill and for poetry - Longhouse is sending out each month complete publications - online - of one poet we have published in booklet form for everyone to share. It's a way of giving back to many of you who have sent to us poems, letters, purchases and the same goodwill over the years. The series will fly in under the banner of our Woodburners We Recommend. It should also be felt as a certain warmth in memory of our close friend and long time working companion Cid Corman. Each monthly booklet will also be available for purchase from Longhouse. Issued in a very limited keepsake edition of 50 copies. For those readers that travel back as far as 1972 when Longhouse began, you know poetry was released like bandits by the day, by the week, by the month, and always free. We have never taken on grants and meant poetry to be seen & heard & on poetry terms. For the year 2004, and within the universal cyber cosmos, we would like to share a dozen poets with you....and only ask that you share them further.

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