Thursday, August 27, 2009

Notice by Steve Kowit

NoticeBy Steve Kowit

This evening, the sturdy Levi's
I wore every day for over a year
& which seemed to the end
in perfect condition,
suddenly tore.
How or why I don't know,
but there it was: a big rip at the crotch.
A month ago my friend Nick
walked off a racquetball court,
got into his street clothes,
& halfway home collapsed & died.
Take heed, you who read this,
& drop to your knees now & again
like the poet Christopher Smart,
& kiss the earth & be joyful,
& make much of your time,
& be kindly to everyone,
even to those who do not deserve it.
For although you may not believe it will happen,
you too will one day be gone,
I, whose Levi's ripped at the crotch
for no reason,
assure you that such is the case.
Pass it on.

from The Dumbbell Nebula, 2000Heyday Books

I highly recommend Mr. Kowit's book, "In the Palm of Your Hand: The Poet's Portable Workshop". It's an amazing, inspiring book for poets....Blessings, ~*~Marion~*~


Wine and Words said...

Sorry, I just get past the photo....I feel all, My hand reaches out beyond my control to caress the soft denim clad ass, thwarted by the feel of glass. *sigh*

Kelly said...

I really like this poem! Yes, be thankful for each and every day!!!

About the yellow tomatoes.... if I'd closed my eyes I'd never have known they weren't red. Different varieties of red taste different to me, too...and these were as good as any red tomato I've eaten.

Marion said...

Annie, down girl, down! LOL! I love the booty AND his cool tattoo. Now, if only he'd just very s-l-o-w-l-y turn around....LOL!!!

Kelly, great poem, huh? That is too weird about those yellow tomatoes. I'm like you. I'd have had to close my eyes, expecting maybe the taste of banana peppers! Thanks for stopping by!! Hugs!

Karen said...

feeling a little mortal, myself, today...

Marion said...

I hear you, Karen....Blessings!

Rikkij said...

Marion, great, another thing to worry about. Ripped crotch and Annie's broken wine glass. Ouch! think I stepped on a piece. I didn't see the pic of the guy, can never make it past the girl to his left. How do you wolf-whistle in comments? ~rick

Marion said...

Rick, you devil. I heard you. xoxox LOL!!!!

Serena said...

I like the poem, but I'm panting over the accompanying picture. Hot! And listen, I'm not going to wolf-whistle like Rick, but the photos of you and the girls are fabulous!

Linda S. Socha said...

Love your blog gal...Love the doors quote....What a beauty at 21...You still are!

quid said...

I'm not feeling this poem. Maybe too contemporary for me.


Judith Ellis said...

Nice poem, Marion. It sort of takes you by surprise, the message, that is, from the beginning to the end. It is not a frivolous piece in the least, not that frivolity is all bad. I like it. It snuck upon me.

And ladies, come on now...what booty? Uh...those jeans for my taste could be filled in just a wee bit more, eh? :-)

Rikkij said...

Marion-Grrrr....~rick. Woof! Woof!

Brosreview said...

A nice piece! Must get my hands on that book you've recommended! Thanks!

Marion said...

Okay, girls. Judith, you got me to laugh first this morning. That guy is a bit short in the boo-tay department, isn't he! LOL!

Thanks, all you guys, for stopping by. Blessings!!

Snowbrush said...

I quite enjoyed this poem. It has a sparse masculine feel in comparison to "Like Kerosene" which is more ornate and therefore, to my imagination at least, more feminine.

You write so often, yet still find worthwhile things to say. I labor for days over one post, maybe not making changes, but thinking about whether I said what I needed to say but not more than I needed to say. I also like to give everyone a chance to read a post since few people ever go back to even the post immediately before it. I do this partly out of vanity, and partly because I so enjoy the comments.

Woman in a Window said...

Funny, I had a moment like this last winter when my favorite jeans went into the dryer fine, came out ripped. I stood still for a minute holding them deciding what I should do. God help me, I called to mind a chicken soup for the soul passage (a poop book, truth be told) and it fit me fine. Celebrate what we have when we have it, give thanks to your jeans that you wear every day. Thank you jeans. Thank you car for getting me to where I need to go. Thank you coffee for waking me up. Thank you. Think on all the goodness that everyone and everything has given you and give thanks in that moment when it passes. I thanked my jeans, thumbed my hole, and slid into them just the same. It's a good lesson. (Thankyou shitty Chicken Soup for the Soul.)
thanks Marion