Monthly Archives: July 2012

More on Jack Gilbert

Littoral Press is printing a new book of poems by Steven Rood, I Say Their Names. Among the poems is this one referencing Jack Gilbert, which he kindly allowed me to post here: Last Things The old man still wants to … Continue reading

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An Exemplary Sentence

It’s been awhile since I came across a sentence or paragraph that made me really stop and consider.  This one did: Most people assume that meaning is embedded in the words they speak. But , according to forensic linguists, meaning … Continue reading

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Newly hatched

We’re back, and on the day we returned, the eggs the broody hen had been setting on hatched.  We have six new baby chicks, all offspring of Malawi and his hens.  Surely at least one will be a rooster. Really, … Continue reading

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Taking a break

As I do every summer, I’m going camping. Here’s one more poem by Jack Gilbert for the poetry crowd. I Imagine the Gods

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We’re #9

Although I don’t go so far as to attend Larry’s softball games, I’m very happy to cheer from afar. So let me announce that of all the over-70 softball tournament teams in Northern California, from Fresno to the Oregon border, Larry’s … Continue reading

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Out and back before 9:30 am, no ticket needed

This morning I was reading the selection of Jack Gilbert’s poems from the second of the small Bloodaxe anthologies I stumbled on at UCB. I liked a number of poems–a pleasant surprise. I think I’ve mentioned before that my first … Continue reading

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Years ago Larry and his friends conceived of a mythical motorcycle club called the Lowbrows. Their motto was “I’m a lowbrow. You figure it out.” (I never saw their motto written out, but I imagine lowbrows don’t use semicolons.) I … Continue reading

Posted in Prose | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

What is the sound of no rooster crowing?

All week my neighbors have been asking what happened to the rooster. They all liked hearing his crow and notice its absence. The silence has been very loud. I found this wonderful poem by the Brazilian, João Cabral de Melo Neto, … Continue reading

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Malawi’s memorial

After letting the rooster rest in the refrigerator for a couple of days, I turned him into stock and used the stock and some of the breast meat to make a memorial dinner. I was going to use just his meat, … Continue reading

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Death in the morning, an elegy

This morning I woke to squawking from the chickens. I didn’t think much of it; they’re often noisy in the morning. But it went on, and I went out in time to see a large grey fox with feathers in … Continue reading

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