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Pink Salmon ["humpies'] stacked in a Ketchikan, Alaska creek: photo by Keith Willits, 25 August 2010
The Ur delusion --
our time so short
what to do
but give way
to give it away
invisible potlatch
glimpsed
during the drive-by
humpies struggling
in the shallows
just past the deep end.
Susan Kay Anderson: Humpies ("our time so short"), 10 September 2012
our time so short
what to do
but give way
to give it away
invisible potlatch
glimpsed
during the drive-by
humpies struggling
in the shallows
just past the deep end.
Susan Kay Anderson: Humpies ("our time so short"), 10 September 2012
Pink Salmon ["Humpy"], spawning in rapid-moving stream, Greenwater River, Washington: photo by Barry Maas, 13 September 2007
Three Pink Salmon ["Humpies"], fighting for position, Sultan, Washington: photo by Don Barnett, 19 October 2007
Pink Salmon ["Humpies"], during the salmon run, Sitka, Alaska: photo by Brandon, 6 August 2005
This provoked by and posted in honour of our esteemed resident soul-angler Hazen Robert Walker: "The ur-delusion: /we can make this work, / this civilization thing." -- 10 September 2012
6 comments:
Tom,
Yes as the humpies and Susan remind us
"our time so short
. . .
glimpsed
during. . ."
9.11
grey whiteness of fog against invisible
plane of ridge, shadowed motion of bird
in foreground, wave sounding in channel
in and at is, point of view
which conditions such
may be, the first two terms
above, this therefore
grey white of fog against top of ridge,
cormorant flapping across toward point
Steve,
"The invisible's becoming the visible here now," saith the clairvoyant Pythoness of the Dawn, upon your 9.11.
"Fog's lifting."
(OMG -- 9-11!! And the morning rush hour traffic madly pursuing Oblivion, in commemoration of all our blasted Empires!)
Tom, Wonderful, both the pictures and the poem. Many thanks to you and to Susan.
I also looked over the cyber-wall to read “Market.” Don’t know exactly what to say, but I’ll start with stunning, and brilliant, and true.
Under the watery house
on wavy stilts--
there it is
leaflike, plastic
making its way
skin loosening
terrible teeth
hump too big
noticable
obvious scars
water food
for everyone else
even the trees
their roots.
She saw
the humpies
her reflection
she tried to bite
the water
fishing bear-like
reeking
of shrinking violets.
And now, for the underwater listening pleasure of our friends in the finny tribe, let us pipe in a little 9/11 music...
We didn't catch the humpies--just made fun of them and then got sad when we saw them later, littering the bank, the gravel bar on the Nome River. Dad said they weren't good eating or that's what I thought I heard through the cloud of mosquitoes, the humpies turning into memories right then and there. Water personified beneath our cabin, Teetering-On-The-Brink, or just Teetering for short, sitting above the Nome River, humpies gasping on the banks below. I thought I could hear them but it was the incessant whine of a mosquito yet again.
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