Field Recordings

Spent most of the weekend submitting manuscripts and poems to magazines and journals. A boorish exercise. Found a bunch of old photos and decided to post them to facebook. One find was an exterior shot of the North Street Playhouse. I played around with it and turned it into a painting.

OF RUST AND WRECKAGE They saw her leaning against the stop sign at the crossroads that was Main and Church of old Delmar, the town long boarded up and blasted away by the disappearance of the rails which had created it. What once had been a bright brick cross-street was now littered with Styrofoam cups, the occasional beer can, and dozens of cigarette butts. She was the one bright spot, her red hair like a spot of rust against the dull street and pavement, her legs tapering to ballerina-like feet as she absent-mindedly kicked pebbles. She was as old as they were, or perhaps a bit older. Her face had a sweet look that came from daydreaming too much, and not having a foot in the real world, and she didn’t appear to notice the boys, for she was spending too much time looking off into the soaped up windows of the old Radio Shack, which had long ago boxed it up for the highway. “Let’s stop and see if she needs a ride.” Jackson said as they passed her. He followed her in the rearview as she ...

Happy St. Valentine’s Day Love. True love, is what brings us together, today. In celebration of all things eros I’m posting some of my love poems. To my lovely of course! She rocketh my worldeth. IVAN, AGAIN, WINTER 2007 Dark cupping the sides of your cheek your breast anchored in his mouth, winter dry heat and days on small sleep. In a decade we will feast on these small memories, and in doing so, begin to grow into relief, the dizzy world about will make us mountains. THE CITY MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL The city makes you beautiful because when snow comes paling down the only red will be the arc of your lips as you light a cigarette, a crow calling over your shoulder, the heavy patter of the old school echoing the falling snow. The city makes you beautiful because the weight of your breath is bigger, heavy, and one must frame herself as the T rumbles in--a hot and humid exhalation, and only a busker breathes. A quarter rings in her cup as the subway comes to a stop. One must quicken betwee...

Ah, post show depression. Yes indeed. Last weekend the drama clubs/departments of Arcadia, Chincoteague, Nandua, Northampton, Pocomoke High Schools, and Broadwater Academy, collaborated to perform N. Simon's The Good Doctor at North Street Playhouse. In tough economic times, the show was a win, win sitch. It costs us nothing to perform the show (N. St. picked up the rights) and each club (plus N. St.) pocketed some cash Sweet. Enjoy the slide show to your left. Elvis has left the building.