Welcome
into the library at 15945 Edrose Shores, my cubbyhole of books within a house
of books, 390 or so linear feet of them that are soon to be packed up and moved
19 miles to a new home in Brockport, NY. And with them the tchotckes; I dare not
count the countless delicate tchotckes (14 turtle totems alone) that will need the most careful packing. For, alas, my days in this
space are numbered.
The
view in the photograph is northward toward the Lake Ontario
shoreline; Great Spirit Manitou lies but 60 feet on the far side of these poetry shelves.
To
the left, a bookcase that is all Heyen (and some office supplies). The vintage
portable typewriter (1930s) holds a couple dozen Bill’s Poemlet Press poems, illustrated, tucked into plastic sleeves. A rooster peeks out from the largest one, its
poem verso. Artifacts of a friend, a beloved mentor, and a
man who should be Poet Laureate of this country. The US needs him. But I
digress, drifting into hero land.
Back
in the here and now: The photograph is an outtake from a folder of archival
shots, done with an eye on content rather than artfulness. Zoom in and I
can read titles on the spines. With no visual assistance I can make out Poe,
Snyder, Service, Frost, Tennyson, Clifton, Piercy.
In reciting their names, I recall that I’ve written several— five? six? —poems about
this cocoon within the chambers of my mind, a mere handful from among dozens
and dozens I’ve written herein on dozens of far more far-reaching subjects. Here’s
one "library poem"; it’s from an unpublished (as of yet) collection, Virus in the Song, my book of “bro poems”, my ensemble of "little griefs:"
Going for the House Beautiful Aesthetic
I
say it’s what happens, like
when
you refurnish, say, a library
if
you’re the sort of snooty woman
who
has a room she calls a library,
&,
like, the pricey new carpet
she
imagines is ultra-rich blood red
&
above it like a kind of Bible, her obese
dictionary,
not that a Bible would be found
anywhere
near this particular pagan temple,
of
volumes & volumes (all of William Heyen’s
in
one bookcase all to themselves),
&
like she’s done this kinda remodeling
job
with
oh-so-prissily arranged
pine
cones, sea urchins, a turtle shell—
and,
ohmygod, her brother’s bone dust.
I
forget the words behind it.
***
Move
your eyes around the room to a chair, desk, printer, laptop, that is, my work
station extraordinaire, complete with morning light and (off-camera)
hummingbirds at the feeder three feet from my seat. I must have a half-dozen
bird poems set in the library. Plus a
few computer poems, a couple of printer poems, too, that plunk the reader down in situ. Both old typewriters shown here, in fact, inhabit some
poems. (I pause here to ask myself: Is there a chapbook lurking in all those
pages of library souvenirs?)
Then
there’s this, invisible to the naked eye: All my books have been born
here. All of them. (Although not
pictured here, they have a shelf unto their own. Documented in my archival
photo album.) Several more have been conceived here and are now in utero. Quintuplets, I believe, that will be born elsewhere in a library to be
determined.
It
is a “big grief” to contemplate leaving this world behind. But it is time.
Meanwhile,
Roger and I will be off in June to Taos, NM, for a couple weeks’ vacation from
the buying-selling house whirlwind. The library will get some rest while I’m
away. Spiders will keep an eye out on a trillion words.
Happy
holiday weekend,
Karla
***
For
further reading, you may want to follow the links to:
·
A
poem of mine that was recently published in Your
Daily Poem - http://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=1794 – thank you to editor Jayne
Jaudon Ferrer.
·
What
a delight to have a poem appear in Bare
Root Review ‘s new issue, which you can read at: http://www.smsu.edu/barerootreview/17merrifield.html. Many thanks
to editors Daniel Kilkelly and Tyson Tofte.
·
I
am very proud to have had the honor to be part of Orion Magazine’s “The Growing Season.” a poetry exchange
project this spring that brought together collaborative pairs of poets. My
partner was Jennifer Burd, author of Body and Echo, a fabulous collection of
poems on nature and the human condition. For more about Jennifer, see http://redroom.com/member/jennifer-j-burd;
to read one of our collaborative responses to Orion’s “growing season challenge,” see http://orionmagazine.tumblr.com/post/85840542933/poetry-exchange-jennifer-burd-and-karla-linn
·
And,
saving the best for last, here’s a photograph of my poem “Step Right Up, which
was displayed at Everglades National Park’s Coe Visitor Center in April 2014; it’ll return again next April! My
efforts during my artist-in-residency at the park continue to reap rewards for
me…and the park’s visitors.
2 comments:
Such a lovely au revoir to an intimate, important (but not self-important) writing space.
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but your blogs really nice, keep it up! I'll go ahead and bookmark your site to come back later.
Many thanks
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