Lily Alys, the Martyr

"Alas, how many have been persecuted for the wrong of having been right?" (Jean-Baptiste Say)

I am feeling vindicated for the turmoil my critical post created. Maybe I inspired you to try harder, as we had some very good poems last Thursday.

I really enjoyed Alan's Will Christman's Walk, a story poem which was a "well-wrought snapshot" of his long journey to Albany to visit his son.

Mimi was a rush with snippets of marriage conversation from Stewart's - I loved the "five peaches, each one turned sour before the year was out".

Stacey bowled me over with a reflection about her mother which reminded me of my own. It consisted of fewer than 50 words, each of them perfect.

My own poem had been written as a wrap-up for my Sunday Four Alzheimer's performance, which I didn't get to complete. It was written for two voices (Tom read the other part) about renting a locker in the bus station to store words.

Tom had a real winner with his DP poem in shades of a voice that Tom has silenced in recent years, very colorful and touching. You should all look up DP - no, it is NOT Dumb Polack.

Best title of the night went to Philomena for "the thief who could not steal the moon", which Alan claims for a Perious Frink story that he has since forwarded to us. The title made me want to write my own story. Alan was pretty talkative, making a bad joke about Paul's harness track poem, something about nags. Edie was frivilously feminine in Hot Stuff, which she printed in bold red letters.

I suggested a rather slashing revision to Joyce's "Earliest Memories", to eliminate some of the more extraneous memories and concentrate on the interacton between her and her grandmother, which was obviously (to me) the heart of the poem.

Dan brought us a long, dense poem called The Song is Me, which prompted a lot of talk which I don't have time to disect here.

The late Mr. Obeeduid brought us a little booklet, complete with a pic of Alan getting ready to jump off a cliff. It contained perhaps the best line of the night - "It was not the Earth's fault we were men."

Several of our regulars were missing. No Art, Dennis, Cathy, Tim...we may not see Mike B. until the end of summer, although he should be at Sunday Four, which is the 22nd. Mimi and her brother Frank Desiderio are reading at Poets in the Park (Washington) on July 19. The philosophy gang of thugs is meeting here with Larry on Wednesday night (the 18th) at 6:30. Everybody's welcome to try this out. We had a good time last month. Tom's paintings are hanging here in the hall gallery. Stop and see them.

I was reading Charles Simic over the weekend and found out that I like him a lot. We have some new poetry books on shelf, including his Sixty Poems.