Across the Great Divide

Roar of the Union Pacific freight out the motel window—sitting just below 7,000 feet in Rawlins, WY, beyond the rangeland where pronghorns graze on the thin white grass emerging thru snow—12 hours & 735 miles on the road—in the morning, the flash of a Great Horned Owl erupting from a pasture & for a shocking moment swooping thru the high beams—the salmon flesh sunrise thru cross-hatched locust branches along the Snake River—wind turbines & the tableland in Elmore County, ID—a wrong turn toward Pocatello—a UP freight skating along the rangeland past grazing black angus cattle—a diner in Snowville, UT & a retired railroad man talking heavy equipment, all sorts—another UP freight howling along a snowy hillside along a river in Morgan County, UT—a Subaru Outback jostled amidst a fleet of semis surging over the Great Divide, & now the floor shaking as the freight rolls into the mountains past the black angus cattle grazing next to the natural gas pumpjacks & the boarded up diners—I’m tired & thinking about the long lonesome highway—meditating at various moments today what each of my friends might be doing at a given moment because everyone is always here & all moments of the past are skating along beside the blacktop.

* * *

Pic shows a snow-covered mesa just west of the Continental Divide; I shrank it a bit because the Comfort Inn's wireless is a bit shaky!

Please stop by The Days of Wine & Roses for a poem titled “Poem.”

Grace #4

A smoky gray evening fraught with the black-headed grosbeaks & moths—a fountain bubbling with transparent water time is just passing thru a semi-truck on Highway 95 blacking out the poppy orange sunset for one instant—a sleep disorder a marble statue of our Lady in a shrine past Buffalo NY a white sundress dark hysterical sunglasses a breaker exploding on the rocks at Rockaway, OR like an HO Union Pacific freight in an N scale world

There was a row of Chinese Elms in green Vermont light you don’t remember—there was a whitewashed brick building muralled with trellised pink roses—there was a bowl of yellow curry an American Spirit cigarette a wooden table outside the coffee shop a Calla lily you don’t remember—time is just passing thru like a white Plymouth on a 3:00 a.m. interstate like the cirrus clouds in white sundresses outside a wood-framed glass door

Just passing thru—a red tour bus a blue ghost light a silver ring a black & white canvas awning a blue jumper an embarrassment of reflecting pools lined with white quartz a paperback Apollinaire leaning on a pine shelf the tart odor of linseed oil on an August morning under a sky-blue sky the stars’ shattered glass—the catbird’s marimba trills the sparrow’s natural harmonics a statue of the Black Madonna in an upstate gift shop a china bust of the BVM underneath a dormant poplar in someone else’s hands the same Our Lady of Mercy icon a lullaby goodbye an aluminum full moon sound wave

Jack Hayes
© 2010

Road Trip Update

Happy Friday everybody! My bags are mostly packed, & sometime in the early morning gloaming tomorrow I expect to head south on US highway 95 for the start of a road trip that will take me to Dedham, Massachusetts. By Saturday evening, I intend to be well into Wyoming!

The eastbound trip will take me thru parts of at least 15 states—the return trip west isn’t completely plotted out, but I do know most of the eastern leg. On the way east I should be stopping in Wyoming, Nebraska, either eastern Missouri or western Illinois, & then will be spending a couple of days in Columbus, OH; from there it’s on to the borough of Queens, followed by a minor amount of backtracking into the Catskills; & from the Catskills it’s on to Massachusetts. I think there will be a side trip while in Massachusetts that will take me to New Hampshire & Vermont—the state where I was born & raised—before I turn the Subaru again to the west with stops in western Massachusetts, Connecticut, Pittsburgh, PA & possibly Cleveland. At that point, wherever I am, it will be spring by the calendar!

I will have the Regal resonator with me, & will be singing & playing a bit of blues for the folks where my mom now lives. I’m also bringing a laptop & a camera, so there are blogging possibilities—depending on connectivity. Obviously, while visiting friends, some of whom I haven’t seen for over 20 years—blogging won’t be first priority. Still, I think it’ll be fun to blog from the road & will do so whenever it’s possible & fits into my schedule. I imagine my visits to other blogs will be sporadic as best, & likewise probably for responding to comments here.

Under any circumstances, there will be some content on Robert Frost’s Banjo for sure: B.N.’s poems will alternate with L.E. Leone’s on Tuesday thru the month, & Eberle’s Adams County Makes the News series—now with actual snippets from the old papers—will post each Wednesday; & the last poem in my Grace series will be posting tomorrow morning. Otherwise, I’ve left things up for grabs.

& posts are scheduled each Sunday on The Days of Wine & Roses & each Monday on Alcools throughout the month! & don't forget Eberle's Platypuss-in-Boots blog; that'll be up-&-running as usual.

I hope to be seeing at least a few blog friends in my travels—I’m excited about that, as I am about the trip in general. Hope to share it with you folks along the road!

Top Pic: Where the road trip begins!

Grace #3

A smoky gray evening fraught with swallows & electric light wires & a slight anticipation of the underlying pulse—& an N scale Union Pacific derailment somewhere along an N scale Tehachapi pass overlooking the windmills & cell towers & other metal trees sprouting across the Mohave’s dry wash—a desk lamp equipped with a fluorescent coil light bulb a copy of Ring Lardner’s You Know Me, Al & a paperback open to something by Vallejo on a black upholstered easy chair in a Nevada ghost town

A random silence—a phonebooth under an orange top hat neon sign some miles past Vacaville a grilled cheese sandwich an order of French Toast the sun splashing honey & heartbreak across a gray formica table top—a large orange juice on the rocks beside a cut glass ashtray brimming with stubbed-out Camel straights—a stand of vibrantly orange willows erupting against the February snow how that snow shrinks into muddy earth like memory on a Lake Fork ranch

Time passes thru you a Union Pacific freight train inexorable & liberally tagged with graffiti in motion along the Columbia River—a meadowlark in a bitterbrush an afternoon game in the bleachers at Candlestick Park speaking French—a radio wave in the cycle of Saturn’s rings—time passes thru you a Raleigh 10-speed coasting beside the dahlias in Golden Gate Park—there is no such thing as silence only an absence of articulation—a feeling you’ve been here before amidst the black-headed grosbeaks with the same dish of blackberry cobbler the same Our Lady of Mercy icon—OK let’s get moving

Jack Hayes
© 2010

Adams County Makes the News - Council Journal #1

1901-10
Council Journal est. 1901
Issued every Thursday by L.S. Cool, Publisher and Proprietor
G.T. Burrows, Editor.

August 14, 1902
NINE KINDS OF KNOCKERS

Everybody has an idea of what builds up a town, but only a few people know what kills one. To enlighten those who may be ignorant on this latter point, we reproduce the following remarks.

Town killers are classified into nine separate bunches as follows:
First, those who go out of town to do their shopping.
Second, those who are opposed to public improvements.
Third, those who prefer a quiet town to one of push and bustle.
Fourth, those who imagine they own the town.
Fifth, those who deride public-spirited men.
Sixth, those who oppose every movement that does not originate with them.
Seventh, those who oppose every movement that does not appear to benefit them.
Eighth, those who seek to injure the credit or reputation of individuals.
Ninth, those who take the town paper and do not pay for it.

July 10, 1902
WORK ON THE WAGON ROAD

Council-Long Valley Road to be Completed in Three Weeks
Twenty men and five teams. That is the force Superintendent Henry Camp will put to work for the next three weeks in building the road to Long Valley. Mr. Camp has placed his order with the local committee for supplies, hardware, and powder. The hardware had to be ordered from Weiser and will be here on Saturday. The viewers and the superintendent started up the road Tuesday to definitely locate the road. Construction work will begin Monday next and will be pushed as expeditiously as possible. It is confidently expected that the road will be completed in three weeks from next Monday. The Long Valley people have practically completed their portion of the road.

July 17, 1902

Council, Meadows, Warren, Lardo and Thunder Mountain Stage Line. Connects with P. & I. N. train at Council daily, making travel continuous from Weiser to the Meadows. Connects at Meadows with stage for Grangeville and all Salmon River points, and also with stage for Lardo and Payette Lakes. Tickets on sale at the Overland Hotel, Council Idaho. Marion Crowell, Proprietor.

June 5, 1902

Wanted: a good home for a baby, two and one-half years of age, enquire of Mrs. Belle Phillips, at the Overland Hotel.

July 17, 1902

Go to S. Haworth & Co. for tents, tarpaulins, shovels, picks, pick handles, axe handles, axes, mortars and pestles, gold pans, fishing tackle, salmon eggs, and anything else you want except Thunder Mountain Dust.

July 10, 1902

Frank T. Mathias and family left Monday for Warren where they will remain until September. Mr. Mathias and son Royal have several lumber contracts that will keep their sawmill busy until the snow flies.

July 10, 1902

Al Jewell left yesterday for Meadows where he will oversee Hank Bolan’s haying crew. Al has assumed an air of austerity since his promotion. Even Bolan will have to take off his hat as this autocrat passes by.

July 17, 1902

To the Editor, Council Journal:
Understanding that whooping cough is epidemic in your town and vicinity, and, in some instances, proving fatal, I herewith enclose a general treatment for the disease which I have used for years without a single failure. Simply in the interest of the little sufferers I have written this treatment, and if you deem it available for your columns, it is yours to publish. Respectfully submitted, J. R. Foremen, Weiser, Idaho, July 14.

WHOOPING COUGH by Dr. J.R. Foremen

The general treatment should be: Keep the patient warm (not too hot); woolens should be placed next to the skin, and at night the patient should sleep between blankets when the weather will admit it. It will be found beneficial to protect the chest with a piece of flannel, and during the most severe paroxysmal period to place over the chest a piece of brown paper covered with mutton tallow and well sprinkled with ginger. During the convalescence, syrup of wild cherry is the best tonic. All through the attack, flaxseed and ginger tea should be allowed freely. (A prescription which I have used in very many cases without a failure may be found at the drugstore of Mr. Jorgons at Council, Idaho, and is free to those wishing to use it.)

“Three Battles & One Flight”

[Our regularly scheduled B.N. poem—enjoy!]

Three Battles & One Flight

When your Commander tells you, wipe that smile
off your face, you want to explain the faulty
strategies of Jericho, Anzio, or Iwo Jima,
how thin saplings redefine our nobility,
how nothing should be taken and everything given,
how standing in a mine field the echoes of movement
are deafening—
like fish sliding just under the surface
of water, the dead are simple, untheatrical—

The fourteen year-old soldier smokes American cigarettes,
imagines the scents of sex, believes he will
be taken to heaven whole and clean.
They say the pilot is altered
by the sky—at times the horizon means nothing
and there is not enough fuel to go home. Like a
child practicing his scales at the piano—
he wants to go higher.

B.N.
© to the author 1983-2010

Three Battles & One Flight appeared previously in the Memphis State Review

All the Poetry News that’s Fit to Print!

In case you’re wondering: yes, I do still play guitar & banjo, tho a look at the blog lately wouldn’t clue you into that so much. I only have mild anxiety about this—but then, I have mild anxiety about many things!—& I’ll be on the road with the ol’resonator starting this weekend, with scheduled visits to at least a couple of musician friends.

But to the topic—I should say “topics” at hand. We’re sorta kicking off a real “poetry week” on Robert Frost’s Banjo, with the second poem in my “Grace” series posting this morning, & the other two poems in the sequence scheduled to post Thursday & Saturday; & of course, we’ll have a fine poem by B.N. tomorrow—in case you’re curious, it’s titled “Three Battles & One Flight.”

But there’s more poetic news—where to begin? How about by announcing a new blog: Alcools. This is something that should intrigue the Translation Tuesday fans: the blog will be dedicated to my ongoing translation of Guillaume Apollinaire’s 1913 collection Alcools, which is very close to being my all-time favorite 20th century poetry collection. I translated over half of Alcools during the 1990s—in fact, it’s possible that I may have translated a couple of them in the late 80s—but at a certain point my translation energies flagged. In going back to translating I picked Apollinaire primarily because of my great love for his poetry, but also because his works are in the public domain, which means if I complete the work in a satisfactory way, I’ll be able to publish it. The first post on Alcools went up this morning: it’s “Zone,” a long poem & to my mind one of the truly great 20th century works. It was Samuel Beckett’s translation of “Zone” that first spurred me on to find Apollinaire’s work, read it in the original French as well as in various translations, & begin to translate it myself. Poems will appear on Alcools in the order they appear in the book itself; posts will be scheduled for each Monday morning on Alcools.

Speaking of publishing: I have been on somewhat of a roll lately. I published my poetry from Charlottesville in another 92-page book on lulu.com; this one’s entitled Nightingales in a Stateside Zoo. My 1980s poems were different in many ways from what came after—more formal, a bit more mannered—but I feel content with the work represented in the book & am glad to see it made public. What may be even more exciting to me, however, is that I recently completed the manuscript I began working on in May 2008 (before I realized I was working on a manuscript)—actually, the “Grace” series, tho dispersed thru the work, was the final touch. This one is called The Spring Ghazals—long-time readers may remember the sequence of ghazals I wrote last spring. The book is 76 pages (proving that I don’t have some “thing” for 92!) & contains material has been posted right here on Robert Frost’s Banjo plus a few poems from 2008 that never made it on the blog. The link for The Spring Ghazals on lulu is here, while the link for Nightingales in a Stateside Zoo is here.

Before wrapping up, I have to say that there are a number of people I credit for my return to poetry after a 12 year lay-off. If you want a complete list, you should buy the books! But Eberle must be credited first & foremost— I know my poetic self is not always the easiest person to be with, & she’s consistently shown patience, enthusiasm & most of all, displayed her own truly amazing creative energy, which is an inspiration not only to me but pretty much every one who knows her. & finally, in addition to be a hugely talented writer herself, she's also a great reader—in fact, you can see her putting these talents to work today on her blog Platypuss-in-Boots blog: please check out her reading of Kat Mortensen's "Lament of the Fiddleheads." You can find the poem itself on Kat's Poetikat's Invisible Keepsakes blog here (there's also a link there from Platypuss-in-Boots).

But I digress, & there's one other “person” who gets a huge amount of credit—& that’s you, as in y’all! Thanks so much for all the support you’ve shown here for my poetry & translations (& music!) It has meant a very great deal to me.

Anyway: hope some of you check out the books & the new blog!