One of my favourite poets is David Lee, the first Poet Laureate of Utah. When he was first recommended to me, Martin said something along the lines of "he writes about pigs", and I thought to myself that there could not possibly be anything worth writing poetry about pigs. But I read the volume The Porcine Canticles and was hooked.
Last night I randomly opened a box of books that have finally made their way from storage to the house and sitting on top was David Lee’s A Legacy of Shadows, an anthology of some of his work, and I have been carrying it around in my hand all evening, opening it and treating myself to these great descriptive poems.
I thought I should share with those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Lee one of these poems, but I’ve been stymied by the wealth of them. I’ve finally settled on one that (according to something I read) is his wife’s favourite. It is also one of mine. Sit back and enjoy the voices.
Interlude
by David Lee
Help me right here sed John
and I grasped the bottom rim,
we lifted the barrel into the pickup
then sat on the tailgate, hot,
a warm canyon breeze
spilled across the yellow grass
It was this one summer back home
I’s young about the time most kids
getting out of school
but I’d done quit
Old man Cummings
had me helping him lifting all this heavy weight
on a wagon load
we made a tote and set in the shade to rest
he must of started remembering
commenced to talking sez
summer clover jingle jangle
he done taken and put his hand
in his pocket and pulled out this silver dollar
looked at it like he never seen it before
smooth so you couldn’t even tel
the man on the side, all the words
rubbed off from being carried so long
it was meadow clover all over
stretching out green and yellow
I didn’t say nothing, he talked, sed
I was 17 they come in wagons
putting on Gypsy carnivals
whole town wanted them to go on
known they’d steal whatall’s loose
everybody went to the tent that night anyway
they paid me a dollar to water horses
I worked all afternoon hard
I was 17 for a dollar
she had eyes that laughed
same color as them fancy shoes
laugh like silver bobbles
on a red-and-blue velvet dress
color of midnight
even in the dark I seen me
looking back from those black eyes
I wasn’t scared
she shown me slow, easy
the whole field of yellow clover
bells on her shoes real soft
jingle jangle
so many nights I can’t sleep
smell comes in the window after me
when my wife’s alive times
I lain the whole night beside her shaking
awake, all that dark
tearing holes in me
nothing I could do but stay there
listen for the sound of sliver windbells
kids in the next room, sleeping,
nobody could smell it or hear it but me
summer clover jingle jangle
he set there staring at that money
in his hand
almost like he’s talking to it
like he done forgotten
I was there too
never sed no more
put it in his pocket
and closed his eyes
I could tell he’s smelling the summer grass
it was all over for then
so let’s take this pigfeed
out to the pens and we’ll be done
lifting it down won’t be as hard
as getting it in
2nd half’s always easier’n first
Read it out loud.
Comments
4 responses
I love the poems. Thanks for making me discover yet another great poet to add to my list. I need to clone myself, and one of me would do nothing but read poetry while the other is at work. 😉
That’s beautiful, Clare. I hadn’t ever heard of David Lee before, but I’m definitely going to see what else I can find of his online.
That is absolutely simple, beautiful, reflective. Thanks for showing us to David Lee.
I like that a lot. Very evocative. I hope you will make “here’s poetry you might like” a regular feature!