Mark Weber

Hey Mark, what have you been up to and please send a poem.

I've been working on the mixes of the concerts we gave at Outpost Performance Space in early May called Interlace, which might become a double-cd. (KAZZRIE JAXEN QUARTET W. CHARLEY KRACHY, DON MESSINA & BILL CHATTIN; VIRG DZURINKO, SOLO PIANO; PAYNE LIEBOWITZ DUO WITH MARK WEBER.)

I'm reading Karen Armstrong's HISTORY OF GOD, and Nicholas Wade's BEFORE THE DAWN (anthopology) and re-reading the KALEVALA and for a break am re-re-re-reading Ross Macdonald. Still doing my Thursday jazz radio show on KUNM-FM.  And weekly installments on my on-line music journal JAZZ FOR MOSTLY.

POEM FOR SUPRITI

And now you're an orphan

like the rest of us

adrift

out on the Western Sea

in your little boat

with the tattered sail . . . .

Those far distant lands

where your mother went on Saturday

the only telephone that can reach her now

is called memory

pumpkin pie, a novena, that spanking

you got for refusing to do the dishes (or was it

when you used your uncle's tennis racket to

            bounce rocks?)

and your mother never spanked

you again because she cried

                 and you didn't . . . .

adrift

with the dust particles floating

     in the afternoon window light

the bleak trees are beginning to remember

                    their leaves

something like tea

      that is memory in a cup, warm

and slightly acerbic, or is that melancholia?

something . . .

something . . .

you trail your hand in the water over the side

of your boat, there's a jet way overhead above the troposphere

do jets fly this far over the Western Sea?

maybe . . . .

maybe

the Buddha is up there?

going somewhere in a jiffy

22mar16

Mark Weber