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Christopher Howell

He rose up from a farm near Portland
And ranged a Lutheran college north;
Seattle beaconed down, and heartland
Unmindfulness propelled him forth
Beyond a war of naval typists,
Their visions rival solipsists
Undoing; lately in the man
Arriving here to make Spokane
The house of his body, snowing lightly,
A lucky crime, the crime of luck,
But mercy holds his hand; he’s stuck
For now but angels come fortnightly
To sing him over heaven’s bridge
From jagged ridge to jagged ridge.


  1. Jonathan Webb says:

    Can be found with the other ruffians at Jones Garage.

    More here:

    Splendid poem Mr. Le Pot.

  2. Quin Finnegan says:

    Yes, this sounds like another nice intro. I like “naval” and “rival” as a kind of rhymsical freebie, and “mercy holds his hand”. And he’s hit the Northwest trifecta—Seattle, Portland and Spokane.

    How did the reading go?

    • Jonathan Potter says:

      Thanks Q. The reading was good. Not as big a crowd as I expected, but not bad. Chris is a good guy. A very low key reader, but good.

      It was a crappy icy slushy slidey day in Spokane, so that probably kept people from venturing out.

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