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Kitchen Heat

July 10, 2012 by at 3:39 pm

But I return – over and over
I come away from urban cares,
Retreat in age from youth, and cover
My tracks the way the horrid fires
Eradicated old Seattle,
Though either way, the questions rattle
Around my head – and so I take
Up porch and house, the cordial ache
Of time and paucity’s abundance.
The evening air contracts. I steal
Inside to warm myself and feel
The kitchen stove’s discrete resplendence –
Control a flame, and age outlasts
The youthful rage, the furnace blasts.

10 Comments Filed Under: Happy Birthday Dear Pushkin, JOB, JOB's poetry, pushkin, Seattle

Comments

  1. Angelico Nguyen, Esq., OP says:
    July 10, 2012 at 6:22 pm

    You really do have a gift for imagining your way into other people’s minds through poetry, JOB.

    How different is it to write from old Moran’s point-of-view than from that of certain other, less attractive historical figures?

    Reply
    • job says:
      July 11, 2012 at 6:56 am

      But does it PAY?

      Ha ha! Thanks Angelico!

      JOB

      Reply
    • job says:
      July 12, 2012 at 6:39 am

      Realizing that you wanted a more serious answer, I guess I can only say taht while many of my fellow Parnassian travelers were taking deep draughts from Eliot’s cracked tea-cup or swilling with plunging effect from Thomas’ pint glasses (or inhalingly herniating their lungs, perhaps, by drawing off Ginsberg’s hookah), I was quaffing freely from the pewter madness of Pound’s goblet.

      His “Personae” is the pons asinorum of modern poetry, as I see it.

      JOB

      Reply
  2. Churchill says:
    July 11, 2012 at 2:59 pm

    ‘Don’t fear the weather.’

    Reply
  3. Churchill says:
    July 11, 2012 at 2:59 pm

    What’s the film?

    Reply
  4. Jonathan Potter says:
    July 13, 2012 at 4:11 pm

    Sweet. This Moran on Orcas Island reminds me a bit of Shakespeare had he retired earlier and lived longer. Next project: A re-imagining of The Tempest through the lens of Moran on Orcas.

    Reply
    • job says:
      July 13, 2012 at 8:31 pm

      Haiku, triolet or – lets just get a little crazy here, shall we – in Shakespearean sonnet-form?

      Glad you like and glad to be part of this thin raft, this soft parade!

      JOB

      Reply
    • job says:
      July 13, 2012 at 8:41 pm

      Actually, I’ve got a whole programme – notice the brit lit influence? – poems each on what famous poet was born/died on the same day as the founding/destruction of San Diego, Snohomish, Spokane, Soldiers Grove and the word “Speed.”

      Reply

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