Well I finally got Lloyd Van Brunt's (from the nursing home next door) book of poetry called "Delirium."
i really like it.
Apparently he has published many poetry collection, and also was founding poetry editor of the Pushcart Prize. He's been in the New York Times Magazine, the American Poetry Review, and the LA Times Magazine.
Now I'm really curious about "High C" - that book he told me he's working on. I do hope he got his printer fixed. (see journal)
Here's my favorite so far:
The Surge
My grandmother said never reach to help
man, woman, or child that's been struck by
lightning. Leave them there
on the ground, by a tree, or a tractor. Their current remains
live long after the scorched heart
stills in the blazed body
and if you even touch them
you'll light up once and dark forever.
Reminds me of that quote from Lolita:
"My very photogenic mother died in a freak accident (Picnic, Lightning) when I was three."
Billy Collins wrote a poem called, "Picnic, Lightning"
here's the third stanza:
This is what I think about
when I shovel compost
into a wheelbarrow,
and when I fill the long flower boxes,
then press into rows
the limp roots of red impatiens --
the instant hand of Death
always ready to burst forth
from the sleeve of his voluminous cloak.
I have the kind of mind that goes to all the most disastrous possibilities. Even though I would absolutely say I'm an optimist, a glass half full kinda girl. Maybe it's more of a vivid imagination. An overamped inner monologue. I just make crazy stuff up. That's why i so love poetry and songs - where you can fill in all the spaces on your own.
And all the while, of course, just Keep Right.
