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Desire Street 610a
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Desire Street
October, 1996
cyberspace chapbook of
The New Orleans Poetry Forum
established 1971
Desire, Cemeteries, Elysium
Listserv: DESIRE-Request@Sstar.Com
Email: Nancy Cotton, Editor
ncotton350@aol.com
Mail: Andrea S. Gereighty, President
New Orleans Poetry Forum
257 Bonnabel Blvd.
Metairie, La 70005
Publisher: Robert Menuet
Copyright 1996, The New Orleans Poetry Forum
(9 poems for October, 1996)
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Contents:
A Fine White Powder
Hairdryer
Imaging
Name Recognition
Parole
Plus Ca Change
Prance
St. Nanomel's Crusade
Five Fiery Rings
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A Fine White Powder
by Andrea Gereighty
It's three a.m.; as usual, I do not sleep
But count the number of times the train
Whistles like the wailing of that sax at
The inauguration.
Sometimes I awaken at this hour
To the scream of the water softener
A machine that yells "quiet alarm"
Digital flashes of the computer
3 a.m., 3 a.m., reset, reset.
I exit by the storm door, surprised by rain
Having its way with gravity again falling in
hesitation, not to use its entire allotment
Before the light.
But I know no one padlocked to the sea
With that invisible longing, only Jerry, in jail
One last deal to pay off the boat, one last kilo
of a fine white powder in exchange for imagined
Years of freedom in the islands.
He got instead the dull, grey clang of the pen
Not buoy bells that charter the sea.
These fat globules of rain feel sacred, like holy oils
I imagine they anoint my skin in benediction.
I want to pocket the familiar moonscape
But it has turned from me the face I knew.
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Hair Dryer
by Bob Rainer
She had danced in Sydney and London, and on top of the long bar at Tip's,
and when she and Peter were married
she danced with the crowd for the dollars she paid for with kisses on lips
that wished them the best their lives could offer.
She was a princess of the heart, and she drew a heavy coffer
of blessings from those who gathered to send them
together on their way.
She straddled the floor furnace, her breasts goose-dimpled all over
while her small smooth bottom enjoyed the balmy air that arose
from the grate and gathered beneath the apex of those dancy legs,
the ones from Sydney and London and Tipitina's,
to surge upward through the shining strands that glowed in the light
of the rising sun that shone through the cut-glass doors that led out
to South Cortez Street that took Peter and me to work.
She leaned over to the side and hummed while she combed,
split apart below the waist to draw in the heat and be the flue that
sucked warmth from the burning oil and
let it caress the still-dimpled flesh before escaping into the sky.
And looking in wonder and questioning my eyes I could say nothing
but only ask why
my best friend's wife was doing a naked split
over my floor furnace and she told me her pussy was wet
and she wanted it powdered but first it must dry.
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Imaging
by Cedelas Hall
Have you ever written any porn?
( * Flash! * "Oo-oo-oo.")
No, I prefer a more subtle approach.
(* Flash! * "Ah-h-h-h-h.")
Have you ever lived any?
(* Flash! * "OH-H-H-H-H, GOD!)
None that I'd care to share with you.
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NAME RECOGNITION
by kevin R. johnson
when I was little I thought god had little fingers, he
used forceps to give us ideas, wore gloves to plant hope;
ravaged by inspiration my fingers are ink-stained from
research, eyes pinched and dry from looking through old
telephone directories on microfiche for my father who only
exists as a shadow answering my mother "when can I see you?
isn't he beautiful? I need money", he handed me a roll of
candy dots which turned my tongue into a rainbow as I
picked up flattened pennies off the street; "Every name is
fake" shines through the clarity of melting ice in my third
tequila on the rocks as I watch a talkshow with people like
me, their tongues neatly butchered by the edges of missing
words from licking envelopes with letters politely requesting
more information, I watch thinking maybe I'll find a new
approach but reading the credits I see that a guest has my
father's name & since many unrelated events happen for the
same reasons, now I think god probably closes his eyes too
cries even if it isn't raining, curls his hands into fists
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Parole Denied
by Paul Chasse
the prophecy is
spoken but once
Be steadfast
in your determination
To keep me clad
in outcast's robes
Here in the palace of exile
Your fear is justified
For this tomb
is but a womb
Which has given birth
to my hatred
A lesson you teach,
oh so very well
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PLUS CA CHANGE
by Barabara Lamont
The day you died
they changed the blue neon sign
"HOTEL DIEU"
atop the hospital,
as if to mark the moment.
For the first five years I lived
in New Orleans,
I marveled at this sign,
thinking this a Cajun place
where one could go
to rent a room
for the night.
A place where God
would watch over weary souls.
Since the day you died
I have not been able
to look at this place
so it was not until
Friday a week later
that I saw the
new UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
blue neon sign, and blinked
through my tears.
It was like 1972 all over again
when Dick Nixon beat Jimmy Carter.
Standing on a snowy balcony
overlooking Central Park's skyline
that cold November midnight
every Manhattan skyscraper
turned on all its lights
to mark the moment.
The hairs rise on my arms,
bristle in the sleet
as I drive through
this torrid, salty, ninety degree
night
crying for Jimmy, and me.
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The Trip to Prance
by Cynthia Borchardt
I wrote the poem
that won the trip
to prance
I bought shoes
so I could dance
and dance and dance
My Mama said I was
sure to find romance
since I wrote the poem
that won the trip to prance
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St. Nanomel's Crusade.
by Clara C. Connell
Hopscotch on the sidewalk
At Aunt Grace's house.
Sucking lemons with sugar
That brought the ants --
Lemon ants
Who knew things.
You see, it was like this:
St. Nanomel of the
Lemon Ants led a crusade of
Tiny Messengers
From the sidewalk
Into Aunt Grace's big old house
On Church Street.
They carried the sugar
On their backs
Like trunks of gold.
Aunt Grace didn't like this invasion.
She swept the Lemon Ants
Off the front gallery
Again and again, shooing
Them away with the men
Who came to visit.
But St. Nanomel's crusaders
Kept coming back,
Crawling off the sidewalk
In scribbles.
Muttering at first. . .
Marching.
One by one they labored
up the dark steep stairs
to the lost attic,
Carrying their sweet heavy gospel.
Aunt Grace now lives in a pile of earth.
The Lemon Ants still live
in her attic.
They tell me things --
Secrets from the piles of earth
they once lived in.
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Five Fiery Rings
"Scars, Tempests, Floods, The Motion of Man's Fate. . . ."
TK. Roethke
by Alfredo Ocampo
On a few lines five fiery rings
stick together
spinning out of selfhood,
whirling for survival
from depression,
while standing in one spot
out of each moment's agitation,
where Mozart slips,
mesmerizing
the long road ahead,
attempting
to bring the man together
through his poetry. . . ringing
five bells of his own life out of delirium
Five Fiery Rings
"Scars, Tempests, Floods, The Motion of Man's Fate. . . ."
TK. Roethke
by Alfredo Ocampo
On a few lines five fiery rings
stick together
spinning out of selfhood,
whirling for survival
from depression,
while standing in one spot
out of each moment's agitation,
where Mozart slips,
mesmerizing
the long road ahead,
attempting
to bring the man together
through his poetry. . . ringing
five bells of his own life out of delirium
Five Fiery Rings
"Scars, Tempests, Floods, The Motion of Man's Fate. . . ."
TK. Roethke
by Alfredo Ocampo
On a few lines five fiery rings
stick together
spinning out of selfhood,
whirling for survival
from depression,
while standing in one spot
out of each moment's agitation,
where Mozart slips,
mesmerizing
the long road ahead,
attempting
to bring the man together
through his poetry. . . ringing
five bells of his own life out of delirium
Five Fiery Rings
"Scars, Tempests, Floods, The Motion of Man's Fate. . . ."
TK. Roethke
by Alfredo Ocampo
On a few lines five fiery rings
stick together
spinning out of selfhood,
whirling for survival
from depression,
while standing in one spot
out of each moment's agitation,
where Mozart slips,
mesmerizing
the long road ahead,
attempting
to bring the man together
through his poetry. . . ringing
five bells of his own life out of delirium
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THE POETS OF DESIRE STREET
Cynthia Borchardt
Paul Chasse
Clara C. Connell lives in the country with her cat Sniffles. She is a psychotherapist.
Andrea Saunders Gereighty owns and manages New Orleans Field Services Associates,
a public opinion polls business and is currently the president of the New Orleans Poetry
Forum. Her poetry has appeared in many journals, as well as in her book, ILLUSIONS
AND OTHER REALITIES.
Cedelas Hall is from Brookhaven, Mississippi. Her chapbookBefore They Paved the
Road recounts her experiences in that state. A writer/actress, she appeared as "M'Lynn" in
"Steel Magnolias" at LePetit Theatre du Vieux Carre.
Kevin Johnson, Piscean, enjoys Tequila under the stars and writes about the
physiology of nothingness.
Barbara Lamont writes about fear.
Alfredo Ocampo
Bob Rainer
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ABOUT THE NEW ORLEANS POETRY FORUM
The New Orleans Poetry Forum, a non-profit organization, was
founded in 1971 to provide a structure for organized readings and
workshops. Poets meet weekly in a pleasant atmosphere to
critique works presented for the purpose of improving the writing
skills of the presenters. From its inception, the Forum has
sponsored public readings, guest teaching in local schools, and
poetry workshops in prisons. For many years the Forum
sponsored the publication of the New Laurel Review, underwritten
by foundation and government grants.
Meetings are open to the public, and guest presenters are
welcome. The meetings generally average ten to 15 participants,
with a core of regulars. A format is followed which assures
support for what is good in each poem, as well as suggestions
for improvement. In many cases it is possible to trace a poet's
developing skill from works presented over time. The group is
varied in age ranges, ethnic and cultural background, and styles
of writing and experience levels of participants. This diversity
provides a continuing liveliness and energy in each workshop
session.
Many current and past participants are published poets and
experienced readers at universities and coffeehouses worldwide.
One member, Yusef Komunyakaa, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize
for Poetry for 1994. Members have won other distinguished
prizes and have taken advanced degrees in creative writing at
local and national universities.
Beginning in 1995, The New Orleans Poetry Forum has
published a monthly electronic magazine, Desire Street, for
distribution on the Internet and computer bulletin boards. It is
believed that Desire Street is the first e-zine published by an
established group of poets. Our cyberspace chapbook contains
poems that have been presented at the weekly workshop
meetings, All poems presented at Forum meetings may be
published in their original form unless permisssion is specifically
withheld by the poet. Revisions are accepted until the publication
deadline of Desire Street. Publication is in both message and file
formats in various locations in cyberspace.
Workshops are held every Wednesday from 8:00 PM until
10:30 at the Broadmoor Branch of the New Orleans Public
Library, 4300 South Broad, at Napoleon. Annual dues of $15.00
include admission to Forum events and a one-year subscription to
the Forum newsletter, Lend Us An Ear. To present, contact us
(Andrea Gereighty, 504-833-0641) for details and bring 15 copies
of your poem to the workshop.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
Desire Street, October, 1996 Copyright 1996, The New Orleans
Poetry Forum. 9 poems for October, 1996. Message format: 12
messages for October, 1996. Various file formats.
Desire Street is a monthly electronic publication of the New
Orleans Poetry Forum. All poems published have been presented
at weekly meetings of the New Orleans Poetry Forum by
members of the Forum.
The New Orleans Poetry Forum encourages widespread
electronic reproduction and distribution of its monthly magazine
without cost, subject to the few limitations described below. A
request is made to electronic publishers and bulletin board
system operators that they notify us by email when the
publication is converted to executable, text, or compressed file
formats, or otherwise stored for retrieval and download. This is
not a requirement for publication, but we would like to know who is
reading us and where we are being distributed. Email:
robmenuet@aol.com (Robert Menuet). We also publish this
magazine in various file formats and in several locations in
cyberspace.
Copyright of individual poems is owned by the writer of each
poem. In addition, the monthly edition of Desire Street is
copyright by the New Orleans Poetry Forum. Individual copyright
owners and the New Orleans Poetry Forum hereby permit the
reproduction of this publication subject to the following limitations:
The entire monthly edition, consisting of the number of
poems and/or messages stated above for the current month, also
shown above, may be reproduced electronically in either message
or file format for distribution by computer bulletin boards, file
transfer protocol, other methods of file transfer, and in public
conferences and newsgroups. The entire monthly edition may be
converted to executable, text, or compressed file formats, and
from one file format to another, for the purpose of distribution.
Reproduction of this publication must be whole and intact,
including this notice, the masthead, table of contents, and other
parts as originally published. Portions (i.e., individual poems)
of this edition may not be excerpted and reproduced except
for the personal use of an individual.
Individual poems may be reproduced electronically only by
express paper-written permission of the author(s). To obtain
express permission, contact the publisher for details. Neither
Desire Street nor the individual poems may be reproduced on
CD-ROM without the express permission of The New Orleans
Poetry Forum and the individual copyright owners. Email
robmenuet@aol.com (Robert Menuet) or ncotton350@aol.com
(Nancy Cotton) for details.
Hardcopy printouts are permitted for the personal use of a
single individual. Distribution of hardcopy printouts will be
permitted for educational purposes only, by express permission of
the publisher; such distribution must be of the entire contents of
the edition in question of Desire Street. This publication may not
be sold in either hardcopy or electronic forms without the express
paper-written permission of the copyright owners.
FIN *********************************************** FIN
