Our Fall 2012 Issue is available now. Guest Edited by James Koller (Coyote Books & Coyote Journal, Otherwise) it features poetry and artwork from Joanne Kyger, Franco Beltrametti, Rita degli Esposti, Ava Darling, Duncan McNaughton, Stefan Hyner, John Gian, Dianella Bardelli, Alessandro Spinazzi, Paul Kahn, Clay Caulkins, Betta Rouse and Bertie Koller.
Poems
We Are
by Bertie Koller are the people we know the people we’ve always known as through this life & others our spirits are blown or are we all
We Are Falling
by Bertie Koller we are falling to pieces like rain to the ground following our rivers wherever they are bound we are falling in love like tears
So Simple
by Bertie Koller I cannot understand what I cannot believe nor can I change what I will not let be there’s nothing so simple as the circling sun
Lullaby for Emery
by Bertie Koller sleep dear child child of snow where did you come from where will you go day bright with light night dark with none we have the
In Any Weather
by Bertie Koller I am sorrow waiting for a dream to gather up my pieces & toss them in the stream with curling toes & swirling woes where
Hold Me Like
by Bertie Koller grey skies & no wind at all the table set for two a candle burns at both ends amber rose & blue hold me like the puddle
Caught In The Lights
by Bertie Koller in loose fitting dreams by the light of the moon silver sharp & still he nurses his wounds cold fingers work quickly on the
A Song For Your Heart To Sing
by Bertie Koller work your whole life for just one thing make it a song for your heart to sing you don’t need money & you don’t need god you
I took him to my hotel room
by Betta Rouse and we undressed. I was all over the man. He took to my hips and legs, kissed my toes, my legs, all the way to my pussy, and on
It had been raining for weeks.
by Betta Rouse Everything was very wet. The music might have been a 1940’s sound track. We might have been on the coast of Brittany. The
I woke in the night, heard
by Betta Rouse your pleasure, wanted you for myself, wanted your breasts, in my hands, in my face. wanted to mouth your nipples, wanted to hold
Easy Street
by Carl Clay Caulkins On a Sunday I came back to my one room country shack It was late afternoon in early Spring You sat there on the
Almost All She Wrote
by Carl Clay Caulkins Fare thee well, Oklahoma Buick, take me west I’m blinded by the sun And just like Jesse when he was on the
Ain’t Life Grand?
by Carl Clay Caulkins Papa lies under the willow and Mama lies over the sea My jack knife lies under my pillow keeping me company Easy
Wishes for Butch
by Alessandro Spinazzi You have to give up drinking (for a while nothing is forever) not to be sober but to get drunk on morning breeze and have
Step by Step for Carlo
by Alessandro Spinazzi In the rainy dark of the evening a film in black and white except for a spectral yellow from the factories walking with
Right & Wrong for Paul and me, a guilty pair
by Alessandro Spinazzi Don’t worry if your wife doesn’t speak to you anymore and writes down everyday your sins like a shopping list or your kids
Open Arms for Katy, the traveller
by Alessandro Spinazzi Welcoming you back to the emptiness left by your leaving the only place you can still call home i’m afraid.
by Alessandro Spinazzi Every day i wait for mail from far away messages without words sometimes come to me brought by the wind by a bird by an
Eyes
by Alessandro Spinazzi Early morning walking the dog rain it’s giving us a break for once a car stops “where’s the medical center?” an old woman
Filming
by Alessandro Spinazzi Driving around that little bit of pain that’s just right unrolling film sequence after sequence this side and that of the
And Then
by Alessandro Spinazzi I like things things about life making a way rolling among menacing obstacles to land at a plate a glass a pillow and then
Cielo, Sky
by Dianella Bardelli guardando il cielo immenso di nubi psichedeliche senti con angoscia e meraviglia, con attrazione, che nulla davvero esiste
Lenore Kandel, il mio ricordo, visione di te, Lenore Kandel, My memory, my vision of you
by Dianella Bardelli È una commemorazione una messa in tuo onore è una messa una cerimonia c’è un fruscio di gonne di pelle di braccia e qualcuno
Sono
by Dianella Bardelli sono l’airone bianco e solitario, e sono il papavero rosso, solo nella campagna — e sono il nido vuoto e sono il grano: dopo
Allen Ginsberg andava ai Gat di Calcutta, Allen Ginsberg was going to the Gat of Calcutta
by Dianella Bardelli Allen Ginsberg andava ai Gat di Calcutta dove la gente arrivava morta e veniva bruciata su grandi pire — ci andava per
By Duncan McNaughton
Something Empedokles said, when he was saying there’s a difference
After Coleridge
by Duncan McNaughton Collingwood had nothing better to do than listen to this guy who was talking in a type of Chinese, saying, I love to think
Felez Año Nuevo
by Duncan McNaughton Were you there the night the dogs barked in Banja Luka? I was, with a one–armed Irish nurse and her spinster sister
Taiwan High Mountain to Doktor Hyner
by Duncan McNaughton The doctor in spite of something or other, himself I suppose, or the ghosts, we mustn’t forget them we grew up with, not now
News, To Me
by Duncan McNaughton Bunch of riders got together, formed a club, The Bychos, though not as simple as that. At the county jail there were two
Hand In Hand
by Duncan McNaughton Carlisle, the tailor, though otherwise a clumsy man, sat taking his ale and a helping of rhubarb–serviceberry pie. The
Beside Myself
by Ava Darling She lies on her back, beside him in the wide bed, one of her hands touching one of his. It is her hand that touches his hand. The
The Bath
by Ava Darling One must wait for the bath water to warm and then to cool, first a finger, finally a toe. Now I stand, my feet quite wet, lower
A Novel
by James Koller Suddenly, up from her bed, she crossed the moonlit room, her white skin silver, he thought, in that light. What is it? he asked,
Leaving Town
by James Koller We did all this before. “Every time we saw him,” she recalled, “he was with a
Five Homes in Six Months
by Franco Beltrametti translated by Stefan Hyner I Five homes in six months When I was living at the Bellevue In Fall Streetcars and hurried
Second Dream
by Franco Beltrametti translated by Stefan Hyner Dear Raffaello, the war had started the Roman legions sowed the counter revolution in
for Andre
by Franco Beltrametti translated by Stefan Hyner In Tanger on the highest terrace one drinks green tea and smokes by sunlight in harsh
By Franco Beltrametti 2
translated by Stefan Hyner On a truck from Heraklion eating little bananas to suppress the tooth ache in the back pack a blanket a knife a wind
By Franco Beltrametti
translated by Stefan Hyner Behind the village garden of paradise metal bucket painted in blue for the water from the
Early Breakfast with Mourning Dove
by Joanne Kyger See what happens when you waddle around beneath the bird seed table waiting for a hand out You’ve
“You Go to War with the Army You Have”
by Joanne Kyger “The froth of rapid associations” is entirely in the mind This
Wild Current is Blooming Pink, The Odyssey Found at Random
by Joanne Kyger You are in search of some simple way to find your home but the old gods reach out with their stories and
Poet and Artist Biographies
Bertie Koller
Betta Rouse
is the nom d’plume of an Indiana girl living in Bruxelles.
Clay Caulkins
lives with his youngest daughter in Anost, Burgundy. Born in Alabama, raised in Kansas, for years a barroom piano player, then a projectionist in
Alessandro Spinazzi
Alessandro Spinazzi lives in the Veneto, part of the current Italian bioregional and literary movements. He writes in both Italian & English.
Dianella Bardelli
Poet Dianella Bardelli’s recent publications include her poetic fictions based on the lives of Neal Cassady and Lenore Kandel. She lives in the
John Gian
Stefan Hyner
Duncan McNaughton
Duncan McNaughton, once a student of Charles Olson, has himself been published widely in the US and Europe. He now lives in San Francisco — where
Ava Darling
American Ava Darling has, since the 1960s, lived in central France, publishes here for the first time in her native country.
Rita degli Esposti
A native of Bologna, where she was much involved in theater, Rita degli Esposti has long lived and taught in Venezia. Her work has been
James Koller
James Koller is best known as a poet, has read and published widely in western Europe and America. He has shown his art work in Rome and New
Franco Beltrametti
The poems printed in this issue by painter and poet Franco Beltrametti (1937 – 1995) were never before published, written in Italian, translated
Joanne Kyger
The first edition of Joanne Kyger’s About Now, her collected poems, was published in 2007 by The National Poetry Foundation, Orono, Maine. Born