yellowstone crop

Whose Wasteland

An edited and updated version from a few weeks ago. Read at an open mic, seemed to go over all right.

Title: Whose Wasteland

I. Worlds in Collision

did you see the yellow
streak pale in array behind the clumping, crying blue,
dying it salmon and rose and ash and leaving cherry spatters.
Across, almost transparent, the watch.
There was a moment. Venus in the morning through the pane. Continue reading

Widah saturday

1800: Week Six

But also, a response poem, to T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land.” It is not line for line or theme for theme, it’s a mash up of what was inspired in me by it. I’m fairly certain this meets the requirements of “something about the class” since it’s a material and original result of exposure to the coursework.


Title: Whose Wasteland

Continue reading

Sunday Post 1

An Obligation

Now a course requires a blog and so call this chapter zero of a seven part installment, reasonably guaranteed to appear on a weekly basis. Maybe I’ll discover a good habit.

The course is English Lit, and we begin with a rudimentary reflection on The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Coleridge. The question: what if the Mariner were real. What if Coleridge modernized an oral retelling of something like the Old English The Seafarer, only it reflected tiny historical details. Maybe the Mariner is and had been dead by Coleridge’s time, but what if long he lived to tell his tale in different parts of the world, and the stories are always remembered a little different.

Then Tolkien modernized the English classic into Ëarendil. And so forth. The Mariner lives on.