Colors

red

the underbelly of something
dying
the blood coursing thru veins
bulging
the sun squatting just before
darkness
the billowing morning flags
over the people

blue

the faded edges
of forgotten places

the waters once were

the empty room with filled ashtrays

“Gauloise Blue,” Robert Motherwell

green

backs
with envy

on the other side
hoping
it is

yellow

pollen
a child’s sun

dry land
lemonade
piss

being called coward
the face of the old
a submarine to look for

black

clubs    behind eyes
spades    prospects
hearts    without
beautiful    you

* * *

Published by William Cowan

I'm from the East Coast, have lived in SoCal and now Northern California for some years. I've been writing quite awhile, published in 1992 in a literary quarterly: "Suspicious Humanist," vol. 2, #2, (20 pages.) Best job: fm on air personality on a now defunct station, "Evening Eclectic" music show, and a weekly poetry reading show. I played jazz and free/improv I enjoyed. Read Wallace Stevens, John Ashbery, Kenneth Koch, etc. and commented on the poems. I have read once at a local coffee house. Love the Bay Area, wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I am going to appear in an east coast anthology of best new poets of 2010 by the end of the year, published in Pennsylvania. I'm reading once a month at a brewpub in Marin with a group of fellow poets. We read to each other our work, and personal favorite poems of authors we enjoy. It is a pleasure to share with a community of fellow enthusiasts.

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