Focus on JAY Finalists - Don McCallister for literary arts

We're chatting with the 2017 JAY Awards Finalists as we enter the last few days of voting and preparing for the JAY Awards (& Retro Christmas party!) coming up on December 5th

 

Don McCallister - photo by Forrest Clonts

Don McCallister - photo by Forrest Clonts

Jasper: What made the past year so great for you as an artist, how have you grown, and to what do you attribute that growth? 

Don: Becoming my own publisher after many years of submitting and freelancing offered new challenges and opportunities to expand my base of knowledge. It’s also opened up new avenues of creativity as I work on the PR side of the game. I’ve even begun designing some of my own graphic materials, which I had experience doing in the past for my small retail clothing business.

 

Jasper: How have you seen your arts community grow over the past few years and to what do you attribute that growth? 

Don: I’ve noticed and admired so much growth in our arts scene that I wrote a novel about it called Let the Glory Pass Away! (see excerpt at bottom)

 

Jasper: Why is art so important right now? 

Don: Art is never-not important, perhaps especially so as humanity struggles to pierce through an emergent veil into next-stage consciousness. Look to the artists for guidance. They’re ahead of the curve—always.

 

Jasper: What role does art play in your life? 

Don: My current body of work already offers a cohesive literary vision, and as the next few books come out this corpus will take on added dimensions of connection in terms of character and plot, but also in a thematic sense. Achieving what will ultimately be the ten or twelve book world of “Edgewater County” has turned into a longterm art project, and at this late stage in the process, I couldn’t imagine living any other way.

 

Jasper: Who have been your major influences? 

Don: Major adolescent influences were heavy-hitters of the day like John Irving, Vonnegut, Updike, Stephen King and hardcore sci-fi on the pop side of the equation. Lately I’ve been digging Norway’s Karl Ove Knausgaard and his autobiographical “novel” series My Struggle. Not everyone would, though. It’s a writer-to-writer thing in my case with Knausgaard.

 

Jasper: Who are some of your favorite local artists from an arts discipline other than your own? 

Don: Our community as a whole enjoys a high per-capita rate of remarkably talented and incisive artists, across all disciplines. Visual artists, mixed-media artists, musicians, writers, actors, filmmakers, hybrids, young people striving to break through into new forms—we have it all here. Too many individuals to name.

 

Jasper: Is there anyone you’d like to thank for their support of your arts career? 

Don: I’ve had ample support from the community and family and friends, but my wife deserves particular citation for supporting me through the years of intensive art-life concentration and effort it took to have achieved my modest but satisfying publishing successes. The literary arts are a lonely, often non-lucrative trade, and having a life partner to provide and manage things proved crucial to my success.

 

Jasper: Why should folks come out to the 2017 JAY Awards and Retro Christmas Party? 

Don: What’s not to love about a party? And in the case of the Jasper crew, one may expect the retro-holiday cheer served up with a sense of artistic style, a dash of zest, a feeling of accomplishment and grace.

 

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EXCERPT FROM LET THE GLORY PASS AWAY:

[Narrator Cort Beauchamp, charged with convincing a reclusive rock star to participate in a public ceremony honoring his superstar career, has taken a weekend beach getaway that will get him in close proximity to his prey.]

 

As I clambered down the other side of the mossy, slick groin and headed for the spit, somehow I didn’t hear the heavy footsteps running across the beach toward me—perhaps the pounding of Mahler’s timpani and the wind cutting across my ears had something to do with it. With my prey so close, now only twenty yards away and striking his yoga poses, I had myopia like a camera lens irising to a small round circle amidst an endless field of black. 

DD. 

In my sights. 

“Duncan! Duncan Devereaux—it’s me, it’s Cort Beauchamp, it’s—”

Oof—a massive force from behind, a blackout, my wind knocked out; my face, slamming into the rough hard sand and sliding a foot or so to a stop. I tried to cry out, but my words had no wind beneath their wings, only a mouthful of gritty, salty sand.

A pressure in the small of my back—a knee. A voice belonging to the knee, sonorous, a vibration traveling down the length of my aching body. “Sir—I’m going to release you, now, real slow and easy and we all real cool. No sudden movements. Me and sudden movements don’t get along.”

Upon the lifting of the knee, my back, cracking in a fine and thorough manner the likes of which I’ve not enjoyed since I last hit the chiropractor, now over a year ago.

“Gah,” I managed to say. “Blargh.

“Mister, you’re trespassing on private beachfront right now—”

Another edgy voice from behind me, urgent and upset. “What the hell are you doing, Reynaldo?

The pressure on my back eased.

“Let him up.”

And disappeared.

Relief.

I took a tentative, deep breath; much additional crackling ensued, and a modest but sharp flurry of shooting pains.

My nose and cheeks mudded with gray Sedge Island sand, I rolled over to see a looming security goon as substantial as a small mountain. Alongside the olive-skinned man with forearms like Popeye and backlit by the blazing light of the morning sun over the Atlantic crouched a middle-aged man into whom a once chubby, longhaired rock star had transformed: now reed-thin, gray-faced and wrinkled, but still a version of none other than my old interview subject. The eyes never lie, and his intense, probing marbles shone with recognition.

Duncan’s expression of concern turned to chagrin. “It’s—you.”

“It’s me.”

DD and his bodyguard offered hands that helped me to my feet. I squinted around for the sunglasses that the security guard knocked off my head. I suspected I’d hurt for weeks—the last time I took a spill from the mountain bike I ride around the hilly, rural roads of Cypress Creek, I limped for three months with a sore knee that didn’t want to heal.

I glared at the thug that’d put my dingus into the wet sandy earth. “What is the meaning of this violence? You almost broke me in half.”

“You’re trespassing, sir—this—this is—” 

“Enough.” Duncan, grabbing me by the arm. “This man, he’s a friend. One who’s been trying to get in touch with me for over a month now. Haven’t you, Cort?”

My face, hot as an oven. I could barely meet his eyes.

“So I guess you finally got me.” His smile, genuine. “Might as well join us for breakfast, eh?”

Relieved, I could but agree. And so, for the second time in as many decades, Duncan Devereaux allowed me a glimpse, however brief, into the private life of a rock legend.

 

VOTE at http://jasperproject.org/jays

BUY Tickets at

 

 

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Focus on JAY Finalists - Nicola Waldron for literary arts

We're chatting with the 2017 JAY Awards Finalists as we enter the last few days of voting and preparing for the JAY Awards (& Retro Christmas party!) coming up on December 5th

Nicola Waldron - literary artist     photo by Forrest Clonts

Nicola Waldron - literary artist     photo by Forrest Clonts

Jasper: What made the past year so great for you as an artist?

Nicola: I have been lucky to have a number of prose pieces accepted for publication in various venues, and to feel in this way that my voice is being included in the national conversation in some small way. I also had the opportunity to work on a piece of performance art through the Jasper Project’s Syzygy Solar Eclipse Festival: it was so good to collaborate with new friends, and to be given the encouragement to experiment. I learned a lot, had a lot of fun, and found some new avenues to wander down.

 

Jasper: Why is art so important right now?

Nicola: This has been, as they all are in their way, a hard year, which also means it’s been a year to respond to those difficulties. For me, that means thinking through issues in my writing of femaleness, Americanness, immigrant-ess, and parenthood. If your heart is a social justice engine, then struggle can be its juice, its defibrillator; and art its beat.

 

Jasper: What role does art play in your life?

Nicola: Writing is my way of being fully alive within myself, when public life sometimes feels oppressive. As a classic introvert, my work is where I live most of the time. It brings me ridiculous joy, those moments where the words on the page come to actually match what it is I’m thinking or feeling: synergy. There’s nothing quite like it.

 

Jasper: What role does community play in the execution of your art?

Nicola: The support of the community is of enormous significance. We can, and must, labor away or play with our art in private, but without an audience or someone, at some point, saying ‘I hear you; this matters,’ I’m not sure there’d be much point. For me, it’s all about connection. I love the moments here in Columbia where I find myself in a room with like-minds and think, ‘These are my people,’, by which I suppose I mean, ‘here is my true family, the people who will support me in whatever I do, in my attempt to examine a subject and get at the truth of the matter.’

 

Jasper: Who are some of your favorite local artists from an arts discipline other than your own?

Nicola: I really adore the visual art of painters like Lee Monts, and Christopher Lane, both of whose use of color and form moves me in the way a good poem moves me. I also enjoy the courageous, boundary-pushing work of artists like Michaela Pilar Brown, and Nicole Kallenberg Heere, and Dogon Krigga, though this is not an exhaustive list, by any means. These artists inspire me to break down some walls of my own. In theater, I have particularly enjoyed the work I’ve seen at USC’s Center for Performance Experiment this past year—so much talent in the work of directors and actors like Stephen Pearson, Robyn Hunt, and Mary Beth Gorman. Just so much talent everywhere you look!

 

Jasper: Is there anyone you’d like to thank for their support of your arts career?

Nicola: Without the support of the Jasper Project, and particularly people like Cindi Boiter, Ed Madden, and Al Black, their warm friendship and encouragement, I’d have fallen into a pit of despair long ago. Thank you one and all. (editor’s note – ow, wow, thanks, Nicola!)

 

Jasper: Why should folks come out to the 2017 JAY Awards and Retro Christmas Party?

Nicola: Because people dressed as Christmas trees!

 

 

VOTE at http://jasperproject.org/jays

BUY Tickets at https://2017jays.bpt.me/

GIVE as part of #GIVINGTUESDAY at https://www.facebook.com/JasperProjectColumbia/

THANKS!

 

 

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Fall Lines - new Columbia-based literary journal CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

Fall Lines

a literary convergence

 

Fall Lines – a literary convergence is a new literary journal based in Columbia, SC and presented by Jasper Magazine in partnership with Richland Library, the University of South Carolina Press, Muddy Ford Press, and One Columbia.

With a single, annual publication, Fall Lines is distributed in lieu of Jasper Magazine’s regularly scheduled summer issue. While a limited issue of three thousand copies of Fall Lines will be printed, Fall Lines will be available in its entirety in a downloadable e-format via RichlandLibrary.com.

Fall Lines will accept submissions of previously unpublished poetry, essays, short fiction, and flash fiction from January 1 through March 1, 2014. While the editors of Fall Lines hope to attract the work of writers and poets from the Carolinas and the Southeastern US, acceptance of work is not dependent upon residence.

Please limit short fiction to 2000 words or less; flash fiction to 350 – 500 words; essays to 1200 words; and poetry to three pages (Times New Roman 12 pt.) Submit your work via email to Editor@JasperColumbia.com with the words “Fall Lines” in the subject heading along with the category (above) of the item being submitted. While you are invited to enter up to five items, each item should be sent individually as a single submission. Please include with each submission a cover sheet stating your name, age, email address, and USPO address. There is no fee to enter.

Publication in Fall Lines will be determined by a panel of judges and accepted authors will be notified in May 2014, with a publication date in June 2014. Accepted authors will receive two copies of the journal.

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The Columbia Fall Line is a natural junction, along which the Congaree River falls and rapids form,runningparalleltothe east coast of the country between the resilient rocks of the Appalachians andthesofter, more gentle coastal plain.

Jasper's Nightstand -- Don't call it a book club, call it a book trust

By now, it should be news to no one that Columbia, SC is a readers' city. I need more fingers than the ones I have on my hands to count the number of book clubs I know about that I don't even belong to.

Some may attribute our propensity for reading to the number of institutions of higher education we have in and around town. Universities and colleges tend to attract not only students and faculty but also literate individuals who are drawn to progressive thought and intellectual engagement, whether they go to school or not. Others may posit that the lack of hard hitting cerebral stimulation from our public education system forces us, at an early age, to seek out our own intellectual adventures in books and, ultimately, establish a life-long love of losing ourselves in literature (and, for some of us clearly, loving the lilt of alliteration).

For whatever reason, last June, Columbia was named by Amazon as one of the Top 20 Most Well-Read Cities in the country.

In fact, we're #16.

You may have heard What Jasper Said yesterday about the new One Book, One Columbia selection of Ron Rash's Saints at the River as our book selection for 2012. Given that, we at Jasper are delighted to announce our new bi-monthly reading group, Jasper's Nightstand and, in keeping with our close association with the One Book, One Columbia Project (Mike and Cindi are both on the selection committee), we are even more thrilled to announce that Saints at the River will be the first book we'll be discussing.

What's on Jasper's Nightstand?

Saints at the River by Ron Rash

Thursday, February 23rd at 7 PM

Wine Down on Main at 1520 Main Street

RSVP here

Jasper's Nightstand is a book club for artists, people who love arts and artists, and people who appreciate the unique insights that artists and arts lovers bring to the complexities of life.

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Saints at the River by Ron Rash = Columbia's 2012 One Book, One Columbia selection

It's official. Saints at the River, a novel by South Carolina author Ron Rash, is the One Book, One Columbia selection for 2012.

Jasper couldn't be more pleased!

We've loved all of Rash's novels -- Serena, One Foot in Eden, The World Made Straight (our all-time favorite!) -- not to mention his poetry, which flows with hot honeyed truth, or his short stories that stay on the brain for years after the reading. Saints at the River is the story of two characters who live in Columbia -- one of whom hails from the upstate and is drawn back into the area where she was raised by an environmental conflict. It touches on family, nature, loss, and learning.

The reading period will kick off on January 17th -- but you don't have to wait until then to get started. We'll be scheduling events from the 17th throughout the month of February -- including a two day visit from Rash on February 1st and 2nd -- stay tuned for more about this.

For more information, keep your eyes posted on the One Book, One Columbia official website as well as our One Book Facebook page.

And be sure to pick up a copy of Jasper Magazine at our #3 release event on January 12th at the Arcade Mall on Main Street to read an article about our interview with Ron Rash himself.

Exciting announcement & One Book, One Columbia clues!

Here, at Jasper, we're so giddy about an announcement being made at 5 pm on Tuesday, December 13th -- that's today! -- that you might think that Santa was making the announcement himself.

No, it's not Santa who has something to say, but it is City Councilwoman Belinda Gergel, and she'll be sharing with Columbia the book we'll all be reading together during January and February 2012 as book #2 in our One Book, One Columbia project!

Here's the twist -- two of our staff members serve on the One Book, One Columbia selection committee, so (ahem) we already know what the book is, but just like anxiously awaiting the opening of Christmas presents you've meticulously selected for your family and friends -- we can't wait to see how you like your selection!

Need some clues?

  • Well, the book was written by a SC author.
  • It is set in contemporary SC.
  • It involves subject matter of vital interest to many Southerners.
  • It is fiction.
  • And, the protagonist of the story is the opposite sex from the author of the book.

Got any ideas?

See if you're inclinations are correct by attending the One Book, One Columbia 2012 Kick-Off Reception this afternoon at Richland County Public Library on Assembly Street for a special wine-and-cheese gathering. We'll announce the new book as well as other exciting events lined up for your reading pleasure. All 2011 "Reading Advocates" are invited, friends of Reading Advocates, and anyone who would like to be a Reading Advocate for the 2012 program.

Then, watch this space tomorrow for a special announcement about how Jasper will be celebrating and participating in the One Book, One Columbia program.

We can't wait to see what you think!

 

 

 

Horizontal Hold

Last month when Jasper Magazine conducted its First Annual Pint and Poem Walk, a few folks asked for a copy of this poem, so here it is for those who asked (and those who didn't.) It's an amusing, odd piece I wrote under the influence of pain medicine after my eardrum ruptured. I was deaf in that ear for nearly a month. Anyway, here goes: horizontal hold

narcotics kill the pain

my mind a barren pool rusty ladder descends into earth and weeds

three lesbians gather wood together they build a Frank Lloyd Wright doghouse

monogamy -- monotony one of them is cheating on her husband

i have weird dreams of my dead father a fire engine Leonard Nimoy and a 19 percent raise

my carpet is the state fair for roaches city pigeons die quietly on my windowsill heads folded neatly into wings

loose audio tape lies in a tangled pile at my feet

i am openly seduced glistening nude in hues of violet by a body without a face

amplified pounding in my head clock ticking blood pumping machine-driven raucous vacuum

find me, bring me down where I can feel again

my antenna flails in the wind please slide on a tennis ball and help ride me of all this static

-- Kristine Hartvigsen

 

Thanks to Dan Cook & the Free Times for giving One Book, One Columbia a nice welcome for 2012

With much appreciation to Free Times editor, Dan Cook, Jasper is re-posting his Arts Beat blog from Friday November 11th, which is an excellent example of how to whip up enthusiasm about something of which Columbians have a right to be proud -- reading and the second year of our One Book, One Columbia program.  Read below for more info via Dan.
~~~
by Dan Cook, November 11th 02:57pm

Spearheaded by City Councilwoman Belinda Gergel, the One Book One Columbia program was launched in April with the goal of promoting not only literacy, but also community dialogue. The idea was simple: Get as many people in the city as possible to read the same book at the same time, and then get them talking about it.

The book that launched the program, Having Our Say: The Delany Sisters' First 100 Years, served as a starting point for conversations about history, family, race, religion, education and much more. (See the Free Times story "Can a Book Get Columbians Talking?" for more background on the program.)

Now it's time for the launch of the 2012 One Book program. On Dec. 13 at 5 p.m., the Richland County Public Library will host an orientation for reading advocates; advocates are volunteers who agree to read the book and promote the program within their own ciricles of friends, acquaintances and co-workers.

Interested in being a reading advocate for the One Book program? Contact Gergel at bfgergel@columbiasc.net by Dec. 5.

As for what book has been chosen for the 2012 One Book program, you'll just have to wait ... the title will be announced at the Dec. 13 event.

 

May Evans Kirby & Stepson, Staff Sergeant Richard Kirby, Share Poetry on This Veterans' Day

Through the magic of social media, Jasper had the opportunity to read a lovely poem this morning, written by a loyal and loving member of the Columbia's arts community, May Evans Kirby. May Weatherwax Evans married local musician, attorney and ne'er-do-well Bentz Kirby on December 12, 2009 when Bentz's son Richard was 24 years old.

She and Richard have been getting to know one another ever since.

She writes, "This morning, my stepson and Bentz's son, Richard Kirby, Jr., posted a poem on his wall. He is a Staff Sergeant in the Air Force and is currently serving in Afghanistan. The poem took my breath away. We chatted on Facebook, and we talked about how much work can go into writing a poem. I told him Worthy [Evans -- May's brother] told me his pieces are always in the works, which made me feel better."

May continues, "I got to know Richard a little better this morning. Thank God for Facebook, Bentz Kirby (for the making of Richard and the marrying of me) and all the amazing gifts each of us has, and what a blessing it is when they are shared."

Here is the poem May shared with Richard this Veteran's Day morning, and below that, the poem Richard wrote which inspired her to share her own.

 

The Wall

"Let tyrants shake their iron rods..." I became my fifth-grade self when I heard the band playing ... the hymn I once loved.

Blue eyes stare at me from under a cap of blond curls, A reminder of the wall names as young children who also once stood wondering.

As his parents lift their beloved's name from the cold black stone, they boy and I watch each other- I think he wonders why he is there. The shame of knowing makes me look away.

Carnations weep from the granite base, A sad irony, this beautiful statuary and the ravenous war which engulfed young men and spat out undending casualties.

I cry because I know, and the little boy does not, of the many lists (not nearly as beautiful) already made, and the others yet to come.

I cry again when the music stops, and the lone last band member walks away, instrument and chair in hand. ~May Kirby, 2006

 

A Fleeting Dream...

I sit upon a string unwinding And remember times that are behind me Of love, of hate, and wasted days Of the straight and narrow, of wandered ways Times of cheer and times of woe And forward to the times unknown On I move, seeking my Eleanor My dream to hold forever more

Still I wait, my thoughts roam free I've consider long, how things could be If everyone could see as I Keep those close they push aside Yet only thine-self one can control Even that bears a heavy toll For the pain that resides in ones own heart Can tear a man's world apart

Though time may heal your mortal coil The demons left inside will kill your soul Of this I pray that all will see And know how true friends should be Still it matters not the feeling felt You can only play what cards are dealt.

~ Richard Kirby

 

(May Evans Kirby is originally from Alexandria Virginia. When she is not writing poetry she is a customer support rep at a local educational software company.)

Book It to Main on Saturday

I remember the first time I heard eboniramm, the local jazz & blues poet-performer, at a literary event.  That voice, that presence, that easy movement between gospel and blues, between song and poem, between joy and pain.  Stunning. She's on the line up of remarkable poets and performers scheduled for Bookin' It On Main: A Celebration of Black Writers, set for this Saturday, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., in and around the Columbia Museum of Art.  Also on the line up is the launch of Home Is Where, a collection of poetry by African American writers edited by Kwame Dawes.  This is an unprecedented collection of writing by a real range of poets, including winners of the National Book Award and Ansfield-Wolf Award and participants in the Cave Canem workshops.  Beautiful work, politically important, and, you can get a copy on Saturday at the festival (and get lots of the participating writers to sign it as well).

Here's Sharon Strange, one of the writers scheduled for Saturday, reading her poem "Unforgettable" on NPR.

Eighteen of the country's finest poets — all of them featured in the new anthology —will be reading Saturday.  They'll be joined by comic book artists, musicians, the Richland Northeast GAP Choir, and local storyteller Darion McCloud (whose acting and directing work many of us have seen with Trustus Theatre and the critically acclaimed NiA Company, our local multi-ethnic theatre company).

There will be readings, writing workshops, book signings, music.  There's also a BYOB - Bring Your Own Book (not beer!) for younger children, during which children who bring a book can have it read aloud.

Here's the schedule of readings, all in the Columbia Museum of Art:

10 a.m. Porchia Moore Joyce Rose-Harris Michele Reese Howard L. Craft Glenis Redmond

11:45 a.m. celeste doaks eboniramm Lenard D. Moore Linda Beatrice Brown

1:30 p.m. Candace Wiley Nichole Gause Stephanie Suell Monique Davis

3 p.m. Sharan Strange Tanure Ojaide Earl Braggs Monifa Jackson KING Shakur

A ground-breaking anthology and a day full of performances and readings.  This promises to be an amazing event!

 

Occupy Poetry

 By Guest Blogger, Susan Levi Wallach

Did you hear the one about four poets walking into a bar? How about four bars (which is about right for poets)? How about a pint in each for them and their friends (actually, friends of Jasper Magazine, who, given the evening’s literary and other perks, got quite a deal for $25 a head)? The poets: Ed Madden, Ray McManus, Tara Powell, and Kristine Hartvigsen. The bars: White Mule, The Whig, Hunter Gatherer, and Thirsty Fellow, which spread from Columbia’s midtown Main Street to south of the Vista on Gadsden, leaving plenty of opportunities to stop between hops shops to read aloud a poem or five for the assembled crowd. The crowd: about two dozen (even before the first pint it was difficult to count, this crowd being social, with everyone wanting to talk to everyone else. If you know what I’m talking about, then you were (or should have been) on Jasper Magazine’s first Pint & Poem Walk on Wednesday.

 

Everyone seemed to agree that poetry and beer make for a better mix than, say, poetry and lecture halls or auditoriums or anywhere an audience is expected to stay still and dry until the wine-and-cheese reception afterward, when they’re expected to remain on their best behavior and the wine is rarely any good.

 

Cindi Boiter, Jasper’s founder, editor, and the evening’s host, said London pubs and poets do such things all the time. Why not Columbia? (A question that has the makings of a motto for the city’s arts McManus reads on the corner of Lady and Main Streetscommunity: Why not, Columbia? or Why not Columbia? — why shouldn’t this little city, where the cost of living is low and artists and writers are more plentiful than a lot of people realize make the arts as much of a priority as big business?)

 

A stop in front of the Statehouse marked the Pint & Poem midpoint at 9:30 p.m., and the Occupy Columbia brigade clearly felt more enthusiastic about having few poets in their midst than they would have been about, say, a group of CEOs and other one percenters. Having in the past several days perfected the rhythm of antiphonal chanting, they gathered about Madden with placards in hand, repeating each line of the poem he read as if it were a slogan (sometimes, the line particularly complex, he had to say it twice till everyone got it right). Poetry for the rest of us.

 

Letter to Travis

by Ed Madden

I saw that photo of you, lean, grinning, skinny jeans, flannel shirt, newsboy cap, and nearby,

my former student Anna, hair dyed black, arms crossed over her tie-dyed purple tee, leaning

on a not-quite-life-sized bronze George Washington (the one boxed off at the MLK march

earlier this year, unfortunate fodder for FOX to spout off about respect and legacy and shit like that,

the one with the broken cane, broken off by Union troops in 1865 and never repaired,

as if he’s doomed to limp down here, and he was shot later by drunken Governor Ben Tillman, the one

so racist he got his own statue in 1940, just across the square from George, standing watch

now over a cluster of punks in sleeping bags, just down the lawn from the one for gynecological

marvel J. Marion Sims, who Nazi-doctored black women, then ran off to New York to experiment

on destitute Irish immigrant women -- such difficult history here, stories of the black, the poor.). I heard more

about George this morning on NPR, his whiskey distillery back in business, though without the slave labor,

that story after the one about Occupy Washington clustered near K Street. The front pages

of the local papers are Gadhafi’s slaughter, the body stashed in a shopping center freezer, GOP

would-be’s descending on us for another debate, the state fair ending this weekend, its rides and fried things.

I’ve got the list of what you guys need, Travis, gloves, storage tubs, “head warming stuff,”

water, and I plan to drop by later with supplies. For now, though, I look out my window,

the weather beautiful if cool, fair weather, the dogwood gone red and finches fidgeting among the limbs.

Too easy, probably, to turn all pastoral at times like these, to tend my own garden,

the last tomatoes ripening up, collards almost ready, needing that chill to sweeten a bit.

A dear friend wrote me this week, says he’s scared he’ll lose his job come the new year,

a fear we hear over and over, though the GOP folks tell us it’s our own fault that we’re

not the rich -- individual responsibility and all that. I want to believe in the joy

and resistance I see there on your face, Travis, the will revealed in Anna’s crossed arms.

I want to believe it, I want it to last, I want it to win. I’ll stop by later with gloves and water.