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.
Christopher Howell
January 24, 2013 by at 8:02 am
Can be found with the other ruffians at Jones Garage.
More here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Howell
Splendid poem Mr. Le Pot.
Thanks Mr. W. Lots more good Howell matter here: http://www.facebook.com/events/327341324036651/
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?
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.