Poetry Online

Many poets publish online.  One of them kindly left me a comment which allow me to find this interesting and often stunning collection.  Do yourself a favor and check out Rain: A Dust Bowl Story.

What is it?  A novel in verse, a new Spoon River Anthology.  Many associations leap to mind.  I hope the blogmaster won't mind if I excerpt something at random to give you a sense of what you can expect:

from Rain: A Dust Bowl Story
"14. Playtime"

The boys played in their daddies’ shadows,
Freely–for these grown-ups,
Unlike mamas, did not listen
To the random nasty word,
Or the stories they portrayed.
They tumbled
Through long-legged overalls,
Swift to duck the clutches,
Scrambling, of a tall boy
Picked as the Town Drunk:
He stalked stiff, a roaring
Frankenstein. They shrieked,
Scattered, fired with finger-guns.
They would not kill him,
But captured him
And locked him up.

From their circle,
Girls glanced with disdain,
Then down to business.
First, from someone’s pocket,
Stub of chalk–
Tied to string, a compass–
Ring marked,
Marbles pooled,
They all could play.
Their crouched backs,
Sturdy with concentration,
No Town Drunk could
Break through. With their
Nimble fingers, dead-aim eyes,
They shared taws so to
Perfect their game.

And to Shelley--thanks for leaving the comment that led me to your place--there's some really lovely poetry there--haunting, tense, light-hearted, human, and humane.  Thank you.


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