Art / Culture

out of the dark water
comes a gun.  a gun I did not see
but heard less then 15 feet away
from me.

and a story falls out of the mirror.
lands in broken shards of what really
happened.
and here is what the broken shards
and the dark water sing...

Colfax Ave, and Logan St..
Summer, curl your fingers around my hair.
let my hand sling around your waist.
past festivals and music played in Denver,
in Civic Center Park,
to the bus stop,

at Colfax and Logan.
the weather is perfect,
night upon all, waiting at the bus stop,
when a shot cries out, there amidst all,
a single shot fired...

Come out from tangled roots,
change course, move away
from contamination. Snake
into the riverbed, divert erosion
into a reflexive complaint
below the run-off. A global
cycle of invasion, of white strips
of drying bandage wrapped
around red poles, of blood-letting
to make dragon soup garnished
with hated radishes...

What I would not give
to be lost again
in the gold, hot summer woods
of my eleventh year,
when my parents took me
to go out picking blueberries;
I walked too far
into the woods by Echo Lake,
away from the cool of their voices...

So this week they closed the national forest, state trust lands and county open space. The Rio Grande is a dry arroyo for much of its length, and most of the rest of the river is too shallow for recreation. The lakes are remnants of themselves, and some are not even usable. In the East Mountains, we watch the terrible wildfires in the Jemez and Sangre de Cristo Mountains and wonder if we are next.

So in these hot, windy days of early summer what are New Mexicans to do to escape?

I suggest The Seven, a collection of 10-minute, one-act, two character skits performed by the Fusion company at the Cell Theater in Albuquerque.

Beautifully wrought, with rich dialogue and painterly evocation of the landscape, Khaled Hosseini’s And the Mountains Echoed  (2013) follows not only in the tradition of his own excellent work from the Kite Runner (2003) on, but in the literature about Afghanistan. The book follows in the grand tradition of Rabindranath Tagore’s Kabuliwala (1892) which  like this one, tells, the story of the diasporic Afghan, impoverished, travelling for work, separated from his own daughter and another he attempts to make his own. Both books tell of the unhappiness of late life reunions...

Pushing the dark blue baby carriage
Miriam strolls through the Plaza Central.
Olive toned hands firmly grasp
the warm metal handle.
Black hair gently caresses the red peonies
embroidered upon the collar
of her beige linen suit.
Engorged breasts strain the buttons
of the jacket.

The hot Texas spring
challenges this midwestern bride...

become
as name:
              willows descending
or building another
of longevity
some call fast in

*

a prison first
or lent’s regrets of carrying on –

1.
The summer has been shattering.
Too much pressure and heat
change the nature of stone.
For this, we walk a dry path
under the spiraled flight of two eagles
disappearing into blue.

2.
The lightness of letting go is good to sink into.
Golden and afloat, leaves drift, sonorous
in their descent.  We pass ancient villages,
small mounds along the stony path. Peaks
blue in the distance, shimmer under snow...

A writer's name appears on the cover of his novel. A painter signs his canvas. A playwright is credited on the program. A star's name adorns a marquee. But what of an architect?

His creation obscures rather than announces him. He lives and works in the shadows of his buildings, which are named for their location, function or owner, not their creator.

However, there are two famous exceptions: the Eiffel Tower in Paris and the Paolo Soleri Amphitheater in Santa Fe...

What I wish I would have said to the soldier this morning as we stared each other down for a three second eternity in the *Smith’s parking lot (AKA “Officer Smith” poem)

I wonder
if this is what it feels like
standing on the other end
of your rifle
or are your eyes always that big
and soft
would you take offense?
if I said
that you are the only part
of that uniform
that makes me proud to be an American...