GHOST TOWN, USA/ The People on the Bus January/February 2010

The People on the Bus

# 4 Eastbound

January 6, 2010

“strands of hair

a long collar in there

it’s like

essentially

I can’t do it anymore”

1/7/10

driving into the pink

as the schoolgirls board
the sky comes up pink
as the vinyl Hello Kitty jacket
on a Japanese teen

look, look away

as the horizon combusts
into the fiery brilliance
of a new morning

look, look away

turn a corner
watch it burn
feel it rise

purple-tinged canopy
of untapped potential

GHOST TOWN, USA

January 7, 2010

Clark College

AA-5 Common Area

“Girls are crazy, man. And it’s not their fault.

It’s the hundreds and thousands of hormones they got.”

Walking East on Mill Plain
toward Harney elementary
I shake hands with a guy
in a black baseball cap
with an enormous Yankees insignia:

“Sup New Yawk.”

“Hey, brotha. Keep up the attitude.”

The People on the Bus

January 8, 2010

# 4 Eastbound

Chat with a guy in a Killers tee and Trooper cap
about our mutual interest in Iron Maiden:

“Yeah. I got my sister into it. She’s 19. I had everything, but then I went to prison, and I lost it all. I’m slowly getting it back. . . . I got an Irish nap last night. I guess it’s pretty bad when you show up for a drug and alcohol assessment hung over.”

“Are they gonna test you?”

“Probably not. If they do, I’ll just tell ‘em I’ll have to come back next week. I don’t reek of alcohol or nothin’ do I? I know Tequila has a certain smell.”

I lean forward, feign sniffing:

“I’m not sure. I guess you’ll know in a few minutes.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

Clark College

Foster Hall

“Genocide. Not at all.”

1/12/10

unemployed vet
former Vancouver cabbie
who spent 25 years
as an Alaskan fisherman
eagerly awaits hip replacement
after which he’ll

                             “get my life back”

has lived with radiation sickness
the government refuses to be held accountable for
anticipates that it will become necessary
to appeal to the Supreme Court

1/14/10

O’Connell Fitness Center

Clark College

I watch the faces of the ladies
on the recumbent bicycles light up
each morning when a dozen members of
Vancouver Fire and Rescue jog into the gym to work out

“Have you heard back on the MRI?”

“I find out tomorrow. When I know, you’ll know.”

“I wanna know, man.”

“I thought of you the other day.

The 82nd Airborne is going to Haiti

to help with security relief.”

“That sounds like a good—“

“When I took my family to Nicaragua,

I found out that Nicaragua

is the 2nd-poorest country

in the Western hemisphere.

The first: Haiti.”

“It’s devastating.”

“It’s a mess. They lost their bishop.”

Cannell Library

Instruction Lab

Clark College

“you wanna be armed

a little bit

in your war on research”

The People on the Bus

1/15/10

# 4 Eastbound

without the slightest trace of self-consciousness
the crosseyed homeschooled Christian girl
in the black leather jacket
puts on her headphones
and commences with
her morning ritual

won’t sit with her brother

“You’re very broad-shouldered, which is,

as I’ve said, very irritating.”

when her brother objects to
her frantic head nodding, she retorts

“I’m insane, get over it.”

random assortment of items
representing various uniforms:
                                                 peace sign bedecked Chuck Taylors
                                                                  goth makeup
                                                                  bondage belt

a few weeks later, she switches
trying on hippie for size:

                                                 tie dyed bandanna
                                                 peace sign pendant
                                                 suede boots, jeans,
                                                 purple cotton pouch,
                                                 green sunglasses

GHOST TOWN, USA

1/16/10

Paper Tiger Coffee

Joseph like the sound of
50360
“the Northwest is all one spot”

Sole Provider
freestylin’
spittin’ “coffee shop rhymes”

“for me, right now I have no money . . .

I had security, but I wasn’t happy . . .”

Julio Appling

Photograph by Anni Becker

For Julio Appling

blue sweat
drips unacknowledged
like a pearl

slips
down the dark brown wood
to hit the floor
with a beautiful splash

this is some
deep pocket
shit

                       right here

not possible to be obliterated
by the squawking ignorance
of caffeinated youngsters
hopped up on self-importance
unable to hear
a thing that does not
travel into their consciousness
via earbuds

The People on the Bus

1/19/10

# 4 Eastbound

“James’s got court this morning,

so pray for ‘im. He finds out

if he gets to go home.

He wants to.

I want him to.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

1/20/10

Angst Gallery

Charlie:

                 “I know no boundaries
                   I have no self control
                   and I’m fun as hell.”

11th & Main

there is an underground
network of smokers
who hide cigarettes and lighters
under Columbian newspaper boxes around town
‘cause smokin’ ain’t allowed
on work release

1/21/10

Outside Harney Elementary

“Guy drove up in a Ford Mustang painted black and said, ‘What are you doing, Mrs. White?’ and he’d shaved his head, too. He’s an odd motherfucker. Not good at all.”

1/22

# 32 Eastbound

“Did you see what he just did? That was a Crip sign. I’m Blood, and you don’t do that shit to me. . . . That’s pretty funny—Kayla’s getting’ cheated on. That’s gonna be funny. She’s gonna call Miles, and he ain’t gonna be there.”

“Yo, where you at? Yo, where you at?

Yo, where you at? Why you over there?”

1/27/10

I see a skinhead
on the 37 Mill Plain
in a black hoodie
with a strange symbol
resembling a freemason’s compass
reading:

CRYSTAL METH

ANONYMOUS

1/29/10

# 30 Westbound

“Retire in two years. I was in the pipefitter’s union for 25 years. I go in for surgery on February 11. I fractured my spine. Where I live. I fractured my spine.”

# 32 Eastbound

“We were sat down, and we were told the dos and don’ts of livin’ in a foreign country. My Dad being in military intelligence, if they can’t get to you, they’ll get to your sons and daughters.”

Parent to child:

“Don’t lose your house key. ‘Cause if someone

gets your house key he’ll break into the house

and steal all your toys and play with them.”

“No! No!”

“No, stay out of my bag. None of this stuff is yours.”

The People on the Bus

February 3, 2010

# 32 Eastbound

“You guys know a little Mexican named Brad? I’m allergic to bees. I am too, though. So you like my Dad? He’s a fuckin’ pervert. My teacher’s like, ‘Have a good weekend, don’t get pregnant.’”

“I hope I get a check today. It’s today. Wednesday.

My ears are cold. They process my check.

I call it into the state.”

“Nosy little thing, isn’t ‘e?

Wants to know whatchadoin

whatchadoin?”

2/4/10

Clark College

Foster Hall graffiti:

The only difference between

me and a homeless man

is this school

Students discuss their hometowns

Washougal: It’s a hick town.

Longview: Smells like cabbage.

“If you see a tweaker on a bicycle,

you’re probably in Longview.”

The People on the Bus

2/4/10

#32 Eastbound

one of the guys on work release
tells me he’ll be visiting NY soon
staying in the penthouse
of a friend who was a fashion consultant
on The West Wing and Sex and the City
and once gave him a $2,500 pair of Prada shoes

but what my new pal
is really looking forward to
is seeing the Bronx
‘cause it’s so “gangster”

2/5/10

# 32 Westbound

“I don’t wanna start drinkin’ again.

I’ll really kill myself then.

I’m arguin’ with myself right now.

I’m not sure what I wanna do.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

2/9/10

Clark College

“I don’t want to go out drinking anymore.
No offense. It’s gross.”


The People on the Bus

2/10/10

# 4 Eastbound

Cell phone:

“I know that’s how I was.

She’s stupid.

She thinks she’s smart,

but she’s not. I know.

I know.”

Leah Jackson informs me
that C-Tran is talking about
installing safety boxes at bus stops
so that passengers can pay $3
to lock themselves in a cage
away from the riff raff
or into which a criminal can enter
and murder you for three bucks

GHOST TOWN, USA

2/11/10

Christine’s lunchtime symphony:

“Constant problems. Constant trouble. They didn’t wanna hear about it. Gas station runnin’ outta gas. Gas fireplace. Smell o’ money. For somebody. Vagrancy. Determination. It was pretty much cease and desist. You can’t practice anymore.”

2/11/10

Drunk outside Burgerville
waiting on the cheeseburger
I had agreed to buy for him:

“Gettin’ too old for this Northwest stuff.

This old man’s gotta go home where

his bones can get warm and dry.

It’s not like I don’t love my grandchildren.

I gotta house on Glen Oaks Boulevard.

You kids can handle it. Come over

anytime and I’ll cook you some pasta.”

2/13/10

just this afternoon
a wise woman reminded me
that there are two secrets
to a lasting relationship:

                                     1. You don’t have to spend every minute together.
                                     2. Choose your battles.

Just ask Jack and Lori Loranger
if you don’t believe me.

2/17/10

Harney Elementary

“She can’t eat, she can’t sleep, her eyes are swelling up. The good thing, Cody, is it’s gonna save people’s lives. Snowboarding was his life. She’s 20. She goes, ‘I’ve never lost anybody.’ Her best friend’s boyfriend.”

The People on the Bus

2/18/10

# 32 Westbound

Paul takes the 105 Express
into Portland every day
to scan accounts payable documents
for PGE
informs me that some of the documents
are illegible
or come in stapled—creating extra work
for the scanners

# 4 Eastbound

“she’s too rigid”

2/23/10

# 4 Eastbound

“What’s wrong with imagination?”

GHOST TOWN, USA

2/24/10

K. asks me to escort her through
the wooded area behind the T-Building
she’s new to town and visibly shaken
happy to help
though curious what it is about me
that signals Not-A-Rapist

two days later
she is waiting in the same spot
smoking a cigarette
so I offer to walk her again

I ask her to explain
the pendant around her neck
she informs me that it symbolizes
girl juggaloes

K. is married to a juggalo
despite the fact that Insane Clown Posse
ain’t particularly girl-friendly
like most, this stereotype shatters
upon contact with an actual person

so I shouldn’t be surprised to learn
that K. works with
at-risk populations

strikes me as being
as far away as one can get
from a hardened criminal

***

most of the work release crew
got big smiles and shifty eyes
the eyes of a guy
done some lyin’
run a few games
seen some shit

bad news
yet cute enough
that the girls from Bay
offer them candy

2/26/10

Work Release complains about one of his supervisors:

“She fucks with everybody, man.

Sometimes I take a two-hour lunch

and she says, ‘Hey, wait.

I don’t understand.’

She pisses me off.

What the fuck is

your problem?”

The People on the Bus

2/26/10

# 32 Eastbound

“Somethin’ to keep me fuckin’ sane. I ain’t trippin’ about it.

Nothin’s ever gonna get better. Nothin’s

ever gonna change. It’s hard to keep your mind free.”

“You got the same problems as everybody, man.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

2/28/10

Angelo: “A dog needs food, and a boy needs cheats.”

Toni Partington reads poems from "Wind Wing" at St. John's Booksellers this Saturday at 2pm

Toni Partington
Photo by Anni Becker

Toni Partington reads poems
from her new book
Wind Wing

THIS SATURDAY at 2pm

St. John’s Booksellers

2pm, Saturday, February 20, 2010

8622 N. Lombard St.

Portland, OR 97203

503-283-0032

www.stjohnsbooks.com

WIND WING
Poems By Toni Partington

Upcoming Readings

In Other Words (special reading and free workshop with Eileen Elliott, author of Prodigal Cowgirl)
2pm, Saturday, April 10, 2010
8 NE Killingsworth St.Portland, OR 97211
503-232-6003


Paper Tiger Coffeehouse
7pm, Thursday, April 15, 2010
703 Grand Blvd.
Vancouver, WA 98661
541-400-8389

WIND WING is a collection of poetry inspired by the lives of women. The poems provide a glimpse into life on the edge of mental illness, transition and discovery. In three chapters, the poems expose the life of an only child with a mentally ill mother, the transitions of life, love and loss, and the societal and personal observations that lead to self discovery. Partington wrote the book over the past ten years as a way to reveal the stigma associated with mental illness and its impact on families.


At Frenchman’s Bar

Egrets assemble
levitate in slow motion
perfectly
above the Columbia’s glass top
framed by fifty-foot twigs
upright to the sky

in silhouette

parked barges resemble a life
stopped abruptly
await permission to dock
unload the steerage of this long journey

when will it be time for you
to sail toward unknown ports
where women gather in flocks
lean into each other and
beckon you to land

BIO: Toni Partington is a poet, editor, and life/career coach. Her poetry has appeared in the NW Women's Journal, Selected Poems of the River Poets' Society, The Cascade Journal, VoiceCatcher (editions 3 and 4), OutwardLink.net and others. She is the author of a poetry chapbook, Jesus Is A Gas (2009). Her latest book of poetry WIND WING (2010) is now available for $10. She also serves as an Associate Editor for VoiceCatcher, an annual Pacific Northwest anthology of women writers.

As a life/career coach, Toni loves to work with writers and artists interested in exploring ways to integrate lifestyle and work. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in Social Work from Chapman University, an MA in Humanities with a major focus in Literature and Literary Editing from the California State University, Dominguez Hills, and post graduate work at the University of Oregon to become certified as a Global Career Development Facilitator. Before embarking on other adventures Toni spent over ten years teaching and advising women in transition returning to college.

Toni is involved in promoting poetry, writing and art in Vancouver, WA with a lively group of friends and peers. She facilitates Life In The Moment, Poetry & Other Riches, which can be found on the web at www.poettone.blogspot.com. Her circle includes poets, friends, family, and dogs, not in any particular order.

Two upcoming workshops

THE WORK

facilitated by Christopher Luna

Saturday, February 13

12-2:30

Well, while I'm here I'll
do the work –
and what's the work?
to ease the pain of living.
Everything else, drunken
dumbshow

Allen Ginsberg, “Memory Gardens”

Why do we write? What is the poet’s place in the world? What can we do to increase our ability to inspire and provoke with our words? How do we integrate our compulsion to create into our everyday lives? These and other questions and will be addressed in The Work, a new workshop facilitated by Christopher Luna. Join us tomorrow, Saturday, February 13 at Angst Gallery to listen to, discuss, and write poetry. The cost is $20. Register now by contacting Christopher Luna at christopherjluna@gmail.com or 360-910-1066. The Work begins Saturday, January 9, 2010 and continues on February 13, and March 13.

Last month we discussed ars poetica, and tried to write our own. We also agreed to write a poem in the form of a letter to someone telling that person something we have always wanted to tell them, but couldn't.

Please also bring examples of your favorite love poems, as we will be discussing the challenge of writing about this most important subject.

For more information about Christopher Luna, and to learn about poetry events in Vancouver and Portland, go to http://christopherluna-poetry.blogspot.com/.

Angst Gallery is located at
1015 Main Street
Vancouver, USA 98660


REMINDER: Registration Closes 2/27 for the ZAP Writing Workshop on 3/6 in Portland!

This one's not just useful for writers & artists + fun -- it's also a fundraiser
for the Red and Black Cafe, longtime/much-loved source of healthy food for body and mind
March 6th -- from 9am to 11am -- workshop led by Judith Arcana

For registration/info: http://redandblackcafe.com/zap-writing-workshop/
For workshop/info: http://juditharcana.com/index.php/arc/events/

Poet David Huerta to read in Portland on Saturday, January 16

An exciting poetry event is happening in Portland soon. One of the finest Mexican poets, David Huerta, will be giving a free poetry reading at the First Unitarian Church in Portland on Saturday, January 16 at 7:00 pm.
This is a rare opportunity to attend a reading of a master of Mexican poetry; Huerta will read in Spanish, and his translator Marc Schafer will read in English.

For more information take a look at the link to the Oregonian article and read the attached official press release from Copper Canyon Press who last year published the first substantial English translation of his work. His poem, "Concerning Sound," is also attached.

http://www.oregonlive.com/books/index.ssf/2010/01/mexican_poet_david_huerta_will.html

And more information and poems here:

http://www.beforesaying.com/#

GHOST TOWN, USA October/ November/ December 2009

GHOST TOWN, USA

October 2009

The Catholics arrive home. Seeing me on the driveway pulling weeds, my neighbors leap from their minivan to begin working on their yard. Moments later, the Man of the House is taking an axe to the brush that has taken over the grass that lines his front curb. Although he has not acknowledged me in the three and a half months that I have lived across the street, he speaks his first words to me now: “Never ends, does it?” No, it doesn’t. The child molestation, the conspicuous wealth, the discouraging AIDS-ravaged Africans from using condoms, the Medieval moral strictures never seem to end, I think to myself. Aloud, I politely agree. As he swings away at the brush, I wonder, are the Catholics being competitive? Trying to keep up with the Lunas?

The People on the Bus

October 5, 2009

“Military’s not a good thing right now. Wish I’d stayed in. I’d be retiring in two or three years. They tried to get me after 9/11 hit. Offered me $26,000.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

10/6

Angelo and Jake play Roblox

“What does ‘God’ mean? Finally, I’m gonna use Super Fly.”

10/8

Biking through
the intersection of
MacArthur & Little Rock
I see a dead cat in the grass
cradling a bottle of beer
between its frozen paws.

The People on the Bus

10/9

# 32 Westbound

A blind guy who managed to ride for several weeks
without renewing his monthly bus pass
jokes with the driver:

“I should get a prize, like the president. Con of the Month.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

10/13

An unsettling moment
as the world outside rumbles
toward apocalypse—
no one in the Writing & Tutoring Center
appears to realize
that the ground beneath us
is about to split, shift,
and swallow us all.

I cannot merely “be still”
in the face of such catastrophe.

“Separate now”
The Indian chuckles
at his assignment for 097:
“I gotta write a paper about Little Red Riding Hood.”

10/17

Don’t make the bacon with hate

DADA ‘09
begins like a school dance
(only with more fishnets)
everyone quiet
shy, tentative
too warm?
too bright?

circling, eyeing
one another
not (exactly)
engaging

I like art that looks like it could hurt somebody

kids, dogs,
bikes and paint cans
under tarps
light breeze
and a view of
industrial Vancouver

VANCOUVER FIRE BATTALION CHIEF
makes a u-turn at the corner of Lincoln & 16th

Blessed by Rabbis
toss out
Bibles filled with
whiskey and Twinkies
lead singalongs like
“God’ll Fuck You Up”

Elk River Tree Fort Army
Sing about “Food and Pussy”
And ask the audience

“Does anybody believe in the rapture . . . me neither.”

You can don the horns
that still don’t guarantee
you’ll get laid
or sell anything
may not even
be able
to give it away

The People on the Bus

10/19

# 4 Eastbound

“Things got even uglier back at the house.
Johnny kinda blew up. . . .When ain’t Spider a dick?”

GHOST TOWN, USA

10/19

Angelo, on the way
to Tae Kwon Do:

“I see Ganesh in the sky.

He looks angry.”

10/21

As Barbara-Lynn noted
during her brief stint in Corvallis,
PNWers don’t know how to
drive in the rain.

I think of my faraway friend as
I curse at the douchebags
who speed their SUVs
through Vancouver puddles
near Marshall Elementary:

“Another asshole . . . Where do they find these jackoffs?”

The People on the Bus

10/29

Retarded girl discusses her
Halloween costume with her mother:

“I’m a Jonas fan. OO! You know where I can find some blood? Pure blood. Pure blood. Pure blood. Awesome. And Scars. Gramma’s gonna laugh at me for what? C’mon, Mom, it’s gonna be awesome. He’s gonna be so proud of his granddaughter. My Dad’s not lazy. We’ll go to his house and pick him up. Awesome. I got hit by a car. Nasty. Blood all over my face. Cuts. Cool. Cool. I can’t be an angel. It won’t be that long. 10:30. What are you ‘posed to be? Huh? A what? A mummy?”

The People on the Bus

November 2, 2009

# 4 Eastbound

Sneakers, slacks,
t-shirt, and jacket
ALL black
red Sting Ray ball cap:

“I’m not gonna play that role. Can’t do this shit forever. Boy’s paralyzed, but he’s still fuckin’ with ya.”

“Goin’ to treatment . . . again.”

“As the kids say, ‘Been there, done that.’

Judge says, ‘Five years in prison,
or twenty-five days,’

which one you gonna do?”

11/9

# 4 Eastbound

“That bitch is ugly, nigga.

She work at Victoria Secret.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

November 10, 2009

Clark College cafeteria

“My girlfriend’s 17. It’s legal in Washington. Woodland fuckin’ sucks, first of all. Couple of hot chicks, that’s all. I have like six hot neighbors. Hot and stupid. Because abunch of them moved from Texas. I don’t do drugs, don’t worry about it. Danny has a hot girlfriend, or had a hot girlfriend. . . . Yeah, I saw the picture. I saw a Maserati in Portland the other day. There was a silver one and a red one. Never seen one? I seen two. In Sacramento. Gotta go. See ya. Yep.”

The People on the Bus

November 12, 2009

# 4 Eastbound

red hoodie
beard
mustache
leg shaking
inside filthy jeans

“I’ll probably be out there in 15 or 20 minutes, bro.

I just got outta there . . . I got two suspendeds.”

hangs up cell phone
makes another call:

“Hey Dad, how’s it going? I just got out of jail. Child support. ‘Cause I can’t afford child support. Hopefully they’ll fuckin—but I asked for treatment. They were gonna give me probation but I already went through all the hoops and tricks, and it didn’t do me any good. I want treatment. I have a problem. Had me on a bad path. I need help. Had the kids taken away from me and all that shit. . . . My best friend took that away from me. He told my boss I was a drug addict douchebag piece of shit.”

11/13

Waiting for the #32 after school
Angelo and I chat with Preston
who moved here from the Bronx in ‘95

turns out he lived in the same neighborhood
where I worked from 2000-2001
not far from The Old Yankee Stadium

we discuss
the weather and
the odd habit
local “white people”
have of wearing coats
in the summer
and shorts and flip flops
in the cold

GHOST TOWN, USA

November 19, 2009

many thanks to the anonymous young lady
who drove by and screamed

“you’re awesome”

as I dragged my tired, maligned
pitiful ass down Mill Plain

you have no idea
what your words meant
no way of knowing
how badly I needed
to hear that

The People on the Bus

November 23, 2009

#32 Eastbound

“’Cause, like, spiritually, man,

I’m almost like a rasta, knowhamsayin?

You might not know it, but I used to

wear dreadlocks, knamean?”

GHOST TOWN, USA

November 24, 2009

the writer wonders
whether to regard
the wolf’s head
atop the walking stick
of the man in the leather cap
who just passed by
as an omen?

The People on the Bus

November 24, 2009

# 32 Westbound

the Hawaiian C-Tran driver
hitching a ride home
sits at the back of the bus
eyes closed
shaking his head
to and fro
to the song on his iPod
eyes closed, bald
bestubbled
like a contented Buddha

GHOST TOWN, USA

November 26, 2009

On the Land Bridge, a guy stops to ask if we would allow him to give our dog a treat. When Toni agrees, the guy puts a milk bone in his mouth and sits down on the bench. It is then that she notices that the front of his pants are open. Figures we are the couple lucky enough to meet Vancouver’s only exhibitionist dog fucker.

The People on the Bus

December 2, 2009

on an overcrowded bus
filled with people
going to and from lunch
or to and from treatment
          a burly guy removes his
          blue baseball cap
          and sticks the left arm
          of his sunglasses
          into his left ear

to remove the filth
that has collected there

12/3

# 4 Eastbound

five men
some recovering
some newly released
cluck and lament
a recent spate
of killings
in the ‘Couve: 7 dead
in just a few weeks
road rage gone bad
on St. John’s
murder/suicide

GHOST TOWN, USA

December 3, 2009

Found poem
dry erase board
Hawkins Hall 101:

Congrats, TAVIFA!

USA!

USA!

USA!

The People on the Bus

December 4

# 4 Eastbound

Mom of the Year
in a Santa hat:

“So stressful. One more hour-and-a-half on this bus and I’m gonna shoot ‘er. It’s a rebellion every time we get on the bus. You’re gonna make me late for work. She said, ‘No kickin’ on the bus.’ sit back. I am so sick of this conversation. I won’t tell you again. I will give you a swat on your butt. I am done. Back!”

12/7

# 4 Eastbound

“I got banned—I can’t go over there no more. How’d you get this outta the river? Livin’ large on a low budget. High standard for the hobos in the nation. On of my brothers was a crewman on a chopper back in the ‘Nam. I need to go down to the big city to see what’s happenin’ in Portland. . . . Lord’s Gym. They got some good gear in there. Guys in recovery, it’s $10 a month.”

Hippie high schooler in sandals
standing outside in 23-degree weather
waiting on the # 30:

“By the way, the hitting of the head

was the only thing

reported this weekend,

not the knee.”

# 32 Eastbound

“I take a whole bunch, and

what ends up happening

is I end up going

to the emergency room.”

12/14

#4 Eastbound

“Your Mom’s got a big ol’ booty. I’d totally tap that ass. You know, me and your Mom. . . . God bless alcohol. Still drunk from last night, crazy. . . . I’d totally stretch your whole out.”

“You’re so fuckin’ hairy. That’s so fuckin’ gross. I’m so glad I’m a lesbian. I share everything.”

“How do you guys do it? Do you have to scissor or something?”

“That’s so fucked up. You have to scissor or else only one of you can get off at a time, unless you 69 or something. Are you guys goin’ to the apartment?”

“Yeah, we’re goin’ to see your Mom.”

“I’m goin’ to see your Mom. I’ll bust all over that.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

December 14, 2009

Angelo informs us that

“35% of the world is robbers, and thiefs, and rapists.

There is never gonna be a great world of happy.”

12/20

According to Angelo:

“I wanna be like my Dad’s parents,

and have continuous non-stop puppies.”

12/18

Driving around the ‘Couve
looking at Christmas lights
Toni comments:

“You’ve gotta be some kinda

pimply-ass douchebag

to put an inflatable anything

up in your front yard.”

12/21

After Mr. Yu
presents Angelo
with his first belt
for tae kwon do (white with blue stripe)
he tells me that
he has enjoyed working with my son
watching him come out of his shell

Mr. Yu tells me that
Angelo has a sharp mind
and that this is far more important
to the martial artist
because while muscles can be developed
a strong intellect is much harder to obtain

On our way to Dahnn’s place
listening to Z100
(hoping it’s a phase the boy’s going through)
I am overcome by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys
weeping silently to myself upon hearing
“Empire State of Mind”
dreaming of home
contemplating
sacrifice

The People on the Bus

12/23

# 32 Eastbound

“Shit!” a passenger exclaims into her cell phone.

"Ma’am, Ma’am,” the driver admonishes, waving her hand
so that it can be seen in the rearview mirror:

“Don’t use language on the bus.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

12/25

It is the first Christmas morning
that we have spent together in years
and Angelo is a happy boy:

“I have the best parents, and the best Toni and Randy. This is going to be the best Christmas ever. It’s a very special morning. That’s fucking awesome, guys.”

12/27

Old man at the post office
complains about the Chinese clerk
telling his tale of woe
to anyone foolish enough
to make eye contact:

“If you wanna buy single stamps, go to this guy, ‘cause she won’t break a pack of stamps. I don’t know what her religion is, Buddha or something. The other day I tried to mail something to a Christian family and I had to use three Jewish stamps.”

Toni is wigged out
by the following sign

$5.00

FOR

TOENAILS

                                                                                                 on Fourth Plain
                                                                                                 near the VA

Angelo recites a classic:

Twas the night before fucking

and all through the house

not a creature was fucking

not even a mouse

12/30

In Angelo’s dream, his Mom had adopted him. Finally, she tells him the truth: that his adopted Dad died and that I am his real father. He also learns that I fight Shadow Warriors. His real Mom is caught inside a Shadow Warrior, and Angelo goes on a quest to find his real Dad and save his Mom.

With Gratitude for Neeli Cherkovski

Neeli Cherkovski and Christopher Luna

at Cover to Cover Books, October 30

photo by Toni Partington

Charles Bukowski and Neeli Cherkovski c. 1989

photograph by Chris Felver

On October 29 and 30, San Francisco poet and biographer Neeli Cherkovski visited Vancouver, WA, where he was the featured reader at Cover to Cover Books and delivered a talk on “Bukowski: The Beats and other Rebellions.” Accompanied by his partner, Jesse, Neeli shared stories about his relationships with many of our favorite writers and artists, including Gregory Corso, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and Willem DeKooning.


Neeli is a kind and learned man who was quite generous with the writers who questioned him about poetry. The Cover To Cover audience loved his Bukowski stories and enjoyed his memoir excerpt about an aborted visit to see Gary Snyder in his mountain home. Despite driving under the influence of LSD, Neeli remained the most sane of the three bohemians who made the ill-fated journey. Cherkovski’s recollection reads like a beatnik “Waiting for Godot,” with the elusive Snyder in the title role.

I was very moved by Neeli’s recitation of his own poetry, which flows down the page in skinny columns like pillars of tears. Like the best poets, his vulnerability is coupled with an inner strength and the eye of a seer. He read poems about former lovers and about his father, who Neeli described as a “great Dad” because he lived the life of a hobo.

On Friday, Neeli delivered a talk on “Bukowski, the Beats, and Other Rebellions” to a small, appreciative group that included Alex Birkett, local radio host Rich Lindsay, Eileen Elliott, Toni Partington, and myself. Neeli placed Buk in the great tradition of literary outlaws such as Blake, Villon, and Rimbaud. He told us that he and Bukowski met when Neeli was 16, and that they drank and bantered together for many years. He told us of Bukowski’s tenderness and his rages, and of the frustration and disappointment that old friends like Neeli felt when Bukowski went Hollywood and began hanging out with movie stars. In Neeli’s opinion, in his later years, Bukowski’s persona took over (Hunter S. Thompson went through a similar transformation). Neeli still prefers Bukowski’s early lyrical poetry to his later work, which, in Neeli’s opinion, often self-referentially invoked the persona created by the cult of personality rather than the man himself.

Neeli informed us that Bukowski read voraciously and aspired to be a great novelist like Hemingway or Fitzgerald. Both Bukowski and Kerouac were influenced by Jack London, who had similar problems with alcohol. Bukowski was a working person, never without a job, who strove for normalcy in his personal life. He adored his daughters, and proudly paid for homes and cars with cash earned from his writing.

The morning of Neeli and Jesse’s departure, Toni and I joined them for breakfast at Eileen’s. Eileen had graciously offered her home to our visitors, and was a superb host. Neeli was happy to share stories about Ferlinghetti, Corso, Ginsberg, and other poets he has met in San Francisco over the years. I really picked his brain, and he delivered. We talked about poetic lineage (a concept I was introduced to by Anne Waldman when I was her student at the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics) and the transmission of knowledge from one poet to another. He told us of being locked up during the reign of the notorious cop Bigorini (who harassed the great SF poet Bob Kaufman for years) for posting a flyer for a poetry reading. Neeli also met the painters Elaine and Willem DeKooning and Philip Guston through his uncle, the abstract expressionist painter Herman Cherry.

Neeli reminded me that The Question is more important than The Answer. Poets often take years to formulate the proper question.

Here is a brief mention of Neeli Cherkovski’s vist to the ‘Couve from the Columbian’s blog:

http://columbian.com/article/20091027/BLOGS03/910279991/-1/LIFEBLOG

I want to thank Neeli Cherkovski and Jesse for driving all the way up here to see us. The poetry community will not soon forget it. I would also like to thank Cover to Cover Books and the Writer’s Dojo for hosting Neeli, and Eileen Elliott for taking care of them while they were here. Finally, I’d like to thank my partner, Toni Partington, whose ideas, organizing skills, and support, made this event possible.

Here is a poem I wrote for Neeli. It was inspired by his talk, as well as conversations we had about the “anxiety of influence.” The italicized phrases are Neeli’s words. My poem is followed by two poems that Neeli emailed after his trip.

If you live in a world absent of the gods

how do you find meaning?

Neeli Cherkovski

a poem by Christopher Luna

If life fashions a writer
of the rock standing patiently
in the shadow of Everest
eking heart and soul
to spill forth from his
craggy granite skin
onto the soft earth
he need not be bitter
for the lifegiving waters
that gravity draws downward
into the sea
are made of the same stuff
that rolls over and through
the rock, providing nourishment
for the soil and vegetation
and animals in the valley.

It is enough to persevere
to observe and document
the elusive truth
and everpresent beauty
of the surrounding environs.

It is enough to conjure flesh and sinew
to attach themselves to the bones of the ineffable
through the sheer audacity it takes
to discover the question.

The truth is not as simple as it pretends to be.

Small as you are
rest in the knowledge
that even the giants
followed the path left
by someone greater than they

the transmission
freely given and
gratefully received
connects us one and all
to the great mystery
we’ve devoted our lives
to capturing in words

I may never be a warrior, but I try to follow
the path blazed by Allen
             Socratic Samurai of Shambhala
             patron of the arts & PR master
who was himself a devotee of
             Kerouac, Whitman, Blake, Pound,
                                  & Trungpa

We are all called upon to lock horns
with our elders, bedecked in hawk headdress
in the lyric arena
forced to face our fathers
in the steel cage of influence

Neeli:
mountain boy
lover
thinker
chronicler of lions and bastards
friend to outlaw poets and
nephew of abstract expressionism

I offer this letter of acknowledgment
of the power of your words
the sincerity of your seeking
in gratitude for your service
to all who would expose
their weary souls
to the abuse of this
often cold and heartless world



PORTLAND OREGON
By Neeli Cherkovski

I see the bridge inside of time, and wish to paint
the various moods of the morning as in "The morning of the poem,"
or to move from within the body, or to plead for something more, something
akin to a garden behind a brick wall, gated, with warning signs: "Stay Away,"
but you find the gate unlocked, stay away
from explaining, let the image make its own statement, we come
in the wake of many leaves, dark brown, brittle red, passionate pale
yellow, the flames
of misfortune, we come
in time to listen-in on silence, in time
to hear the beating of a drum in the distance, it must be
the neighbor, or the first pre-rush hour cars, the bridges
are choked, my enemy
lives in the garden, yet I may sit there
at 6 a.m. and find invisible things
doing things, I stand in the midst of a
forest, the tall trees, there is
a silence one may rely on, I prefer personal
things, private notes
from me to the goddess who is cast
in bronze

I cross the bridge, this one is so simple, night
invades, it is almost Halloween and filled with a moon, the
poem has come
from the morning (of the pen), the words
are strung on high wire, I open the gate and cross quickly,
quietly, so who are you to put up a sign anywhere you please?
the arrow you aimed has come
down to the rose, the single rose, it is here
in the garden on the garden floor it is half hidden under fallen rust
of the tallest trees, I guess there is no way
to return, no way to tell you the same old love story, I love you,
I love to, I hope, I use the word to tempt myself deeper into the garden
I use love to feel safe,
if this is the city then count on me, there are rows of roses in bloom
and more statues and a praying mantis, and a bloodthirsty
demon



A MAN ALONE
By Neeli Cherkovski

a man alone
follows the creek from
the ring of mushrooms
to the estuary, he puts a finger
onto the sun at midday and
waits for the grave swans to dive,
his ashen eyes follow the sunset, his burnt
vision rise over the horizon, night
flows across the fields, a man
alone putting the moon
in his mouth, dreaming
of love, eating the
flowers that grow
on the clouds, following
in the wake of Dante
and a secret tribe of
criminal poets who bend
the truth across a stretch
of stream, a man alone
in a cave with his snake
and his eagle, eager
to cross into Beauty and
Truth, but stuck in the shadows
of his shelter

Art by Christopher Luna and others at Angst Gallery in September

There are only a few more weeks to see "Words," a great exhibition of collaborations between, poets, painters, songwriters, and visual artists at Angst Gallery (http://www.angstgallery.com/) at 1015 Main Street in downtown Vancouver, WA. I have six pieces in the show: four with Erin Madarang, and two with Harry Lane. I am also proud to report that the show includes visual art and poetry by my friends Eileen Elliott, Jim Martin, and Toni Partington.

Above I have posted some photographs, but like all art, you cannot fully appreciate the work without seeing it in person.

The first two images are paintings by Harry Lane, which he gave to me to amend. I added words to both. The first is called "Word Bombs." The second is called "Opener of Ways," and is based on harry's knowledge of my affinity for Ganesh, the Hindu remover of obstacles and god of literature.

Here is a poem, which also appears in Ghost Town, USA (available through the author or by contacting Angst or Cover to Cover Books http://www.covertocoverbooks.net/) about my collaboration with Harry. the last line of the poem refers to a line in a poem by Diane DiPrima (http://dianediprima.com/) in which she writes "the only war that matters is the war against the imagination." In fact, I sent this poem to Diane as part of the 2008 postcard poetry project.

EYE CATALYST for Diane di Prima we are charged with a responsibility whether we take on the role of observer, critic, priestess, or shaman my painter friend is a former Kansas ninja and the reincarnation of a ninth-Century warrior who smokes to quiet the voices in his head and understands that to name may also be to destroy he brings me finished canvasses which I am invited to amend according to my liking my Sharpie-holding hand trembles with a sense of obligation whatever I choose to add must be right, must be worthy must move, add rather than take away we get trashed, laugh and rub our beards mark of our status as revolutionary perverts we are dangerous create word bombs to dismantle capitalism and undo the hatred in the human heart while plotting our respective strategies

in the ongoing war against the imagination

Then there are three collaborations with Erin (there isa fourth in the show, but I do not have a picture of it).

The first is "YOUR SISTER, YOUR MOTHER, YOUR LOVER, YOUR FRIEND," based on a poem of mine with the same title.

The second is called, "It will end without warning," based on a poem about fear and mortality which I dedicated to my son Angelo and my friend Dryas Martin.

The third is a self portrait of Erin which she very bravely handed over to me to supplement. Erin and I really enjoyed collaborating and we are working on some additional pieces. Please stop by Angst, support local artists, and let gallery director Leah Jackson know that you support her efforts to foster and nurture the arts community in Vancouver.

Ghost Town, USA/ The People on the Bus June/July 2009

GHOST TOWN, USA June 2009

June 1

as if to announce the desperately anticipated summer heat several pairs of teenagers— one boy, one girl— emerge from behind bushes, fences, and rock walls on Evergreen Blvd. the gleam of sweat on their nubile skin beading up like the smile of a long-lost friend or the blush of first love naked in spite of itself

6/2

Jake and Angelo play video games: Jake: “What? That’s the Massive Entity?” Angelo: “Don’t judge him by his size.”

6/9

Goldie is walking her way to health: wakes early, slips on shorts and a long-sleeve t-shirt clicks on her music and heads out Goldie could be in better shape but she’s not fat: she’s top heavy out of proportion giant breasts thick torso stick-thin legs tries to time her walk down 13th so that every morning she makes it to E. Reserve at exactly the same moment that the men are leaping from the garbage truck to land at her feet Goldie surveys Vancouver from behind big, dark sunglasses: through those shades she sees all…. Clark College men’s room graffiti: don’t let me stop you from doing what you want to do

6/10

Leah Jackson lovely art maven of Main Street arrives at the gallery on a beaming yellow Schwinn equipped with basket and bookholder pushes it toward me, smiling: “I want my bard to have a bicycle.”

Walking home from Harney Elementary, just outside the Igloo

“Ice cream, NIGGUH!”

6/12

Even the low riders in the ‘Couve are lame: moments into my inaugural bike ride a black low-rider pickup scrapes its way down Main Street draggin’ its low-rent ass on the asphalt: truly embarrassing

The People on the Bus

# 37 Eastbound June 17, 2009

“When I got pregnant, my friend said he was never gonna allow himself to get himself into that situation, so I’m gonna laugh at him. My old friends from high school, one of ‘em’s a transvestite, another of ‘em is in Montana with her new girlfriend, ignoring her husband and their two kids.”

37 Westbound 8:42 am 6/30

Dorothy Mary Collier of Ireland, who has been in the US since she was four has a captive audience in a gentleman on his way to Worksource to find a job: “I just bought an electric globe, you know, a globe that runs on electricity, and I think I saw Sri Lanka on the globe.”

The People on the Bus July 2009

# 4 Westbound July 6

“He’s got one with me, one with Paulie, and two with this white girl.”

GHOST TOWN, USA July 2009

7/6

Man to woman As they cross Fort Vancouver Way heading toward Clark College: “All they do is gossip in that place, they’re a bunch of losers. You’re a smart woman, you should be able to let that go.”

The People on the Bus

7/7

As I get on the 32 headed West the driver is discussing his military service with a passenger in the front seat whose long legs jut out in front of the stairs. The passenger is an older African American wearing a black leather baseball cap, a black and grey winter coat black pants, black suede shoes sitting next to a backpack with a Minnie Mouse key chain. Driver: “Korea.” Passenger: “Yeah.”

“I was drafted as well, but I kind of knew I couldn’t get out of it, not like Vietnam. Couldn’t go to Canada.” The passenger begins talking about Charlie, 35 years old, whom he has raised since the age of two. “Charlie’s a good, sweet kid, and I don’t mind takin’ him to dinner.”

“When I met him I perceived him to have a good heart.”

“He’s a happy-go-lucky kid. Smart.”

“How many do you have?”

“Four. All boys. Yeah, they get along with their mother alright, but they give me trouble. . . . Took all my guns. All my watches.”

“Substance abuse?”

“Didn’t wanna work. My oldest granddaughter, she’s a good kid. She’s an A student. She’s totally different from her Dad. He acted like she didn’t exist. . . . You can’t dabble with the devil. My mother had a problem with alcohol. I had other problems. I didn’t need that.” He explains to the bus driver that he himself never smoked or drank. Soon thereafter, he changes the subject. “I got up this morning tryin’ to get the news. The entire news been capitalized by Michael Jackson’s passing. Sometimes they can get shady. They shady all the time.”

# 4 Fourth Plain Eastbound 7/7

“She’s a Goodwill collector. She has a place out in Ridgefield. She has five couches in the house. And she borrows stuff. . . . She works at Safeway, but it’s not enough. It started out she was gonna pay half the rent, but I got a $300 check, one time. There’s always something she needs to do, like take her three kids to the beach. . . . I’m 76. I’m still here. I’m in a 10x12 bedroom in the house. I’ve got three dogs. She’s got three cats, and they climb up on my face like this. My son lives in the basement. Doesn’t work. I’m setting up a 9x13 tent with netting in the back.”

outside McDonald’s waiting for the # 4 Westbound

“We’re goin’ up here. You ain’t getting’ me locked up on a court order. I got strict orders!”

waiting for the # 30 Broadway and 13th 7/9

“I got half a foot, man. . . . Should be here any minute.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

7/12

CHURCH OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD GOD DOES NOT TAKE THE SUMMER OFF

The People on the Bus

# 25 downtown 7/15

“This bitch was just sittin’ here on the bus just starin’ at me and I said, ‘Do I know you? Bitch, look the other way. Do you know me?’”

GHOST TOWN, USA

7/21

Ego Confession (directed by Lucio Fulci) overcome by a mass of contradictions which swarm over the brain like feasting maggots enveloped in a living sea no escape no redemption no way to undo what has been done erase your transgressions and start fresh no way to see past the larva swimming in your eyes

The People on the Bus

# 32 Eastbound 7/22

“Guys on the bus are always askin’ my name, and I just give them a fake name and a fake number.”

GHOST TOWN, USA

Foster Hall Lounge Clark College July 29, 2009

Student on cell phone: “No, I’ve been to, like, so many places. Oh, you’re getting ready to go back on shift or something. I’m just doing work study and school. I know. True. ‘Cause you have no idea how many applications I’ve put in. What? Yeah. Depending on where you go, depending on how you dress. Do you know how many trade schools there are in Portland? No, trade schools. OK, thank you. I don’t know. I know what it is, it’s like where they teach you. You learn by actually doing it. I just know. Why? Why? It’s a nice job, though. Yes it is. I know. I know. I know. What? Wha’d you say? What are you doing? You’re weird.”

7/31

A gentleman in his 60s and a guy in his 30s discuss their disdain for the media over lunch at Christine’s: “For me, that’s what I do. Unless I was locked in a 6x6 cell, with nothing else to do. . . . That’s why the newspapers are goin’ out of business, ‘cause we don’t need ‘em anymore, for information.”

Amtrak Station Vancouver, WA 7/31

Businessman brown pants striped tie shades talks on his cell phone as he waits for the 3:05 Cascades: “I don’t think I could have a more eventful week. So it’ll be bad, but . . . back in the saddle. I’m tired. I might just stay home, and not do anything. . . . They traded. . . . Telephone feature. . . .”

FADE OUT DISSOLVE NORTHWARD

Christopher Luna

Vancouver, WA

POETS AT CORNUCOPIA DAYS (Kent, WA) Saturday, July 11

The Northwest Renaissance presents: POETS @ CORNUCOPIA DAYS 2 p.m. Saturday, July 11 Kent Centennial Center 400 West Gowe Featuring Jeff Lair • Susan Landgraf Casey Fuller • Carolyn Maddux ~ & a poetry game with prizes! ~ Celebrating 25 years of poetry in Kent Produced with generous support from the Kent Arts Commission -------------- The Northwest RenaissancePoets, Performers & Publisher CONTACT: Marjorie.Rommel@gmail.com, 253/939-0571 Celebrating 25 years of City-supported poetry in Kent, The Northwest Renaissance presents POETS @ CORNUCOPIA DAYS 2-4 p.m. Saturday, July 11, in the Kent Centennial Center, 400 West Gowe. The program will include readings by four well-published Northwest poets, audience participation games and prizes, and free broadsides featuring poems by each of this year’s readers: Jeff Lair, Susan Landgraf, Casey Fuller, and Carolyn Maddux. Jeff Lair lives and raises chickens in Everett. His poetry is unambiguous, frank, and often surprising in its serious consideration of disillusionment, epiphanies of bewilderment, and death –– always with enough irony to make you laugh. His illustrated books of poems are Bucking and Braying at the Dark Edge, and Tall Grass. Writer/photographer Susan Landgraf’s chapbook Other Voices was published this summer by Finishing Line Press. Her poems have appeared in Poet Lore, Nimrod, Rattle, The Laurel Review, Third Coast Review, Pikeville Review, Interim, Ploughshares, Cincinnati Poetry Review, and The Aurorean, among others. Honors include a Fulbright-Hays grant to travel and study in South Africa and Namibia; awards from the Pablo Neruda Society, Society of Humanistic Anthropology, and Academy of American Poets; residencies at Hedgebrook, Ragdale, Soapstone, and the Willard R. Espy Foundation compound in Oysterville, Washington; and a Theodore Morrison scholarship to attend the Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference. She was awarded an NEH grant to spend five weeks in Peru and Bolivia studying the “Andean Worlds” in 2005, and in 2007 she received a Jack Straw Productions production grant. A former journalist, she taught at Shanghai Jiao Tong University in China in 2002 and 2008 through an exchange program with Highline Community College where she teaches writing, literature, and media classes. Casey Fuller lives in a small studio apartment in downtown Olympia, Washington. He works in warehouse and has lots of tattooes. He has been a board member for the Olympia Poetry Network for more than five years and has helped organize roughly 60 poetry readings and 30 poetry workshops. His work has appeared in Switched-on Gutenberg, In Tahoma's Shadow, and Palabra. He received The City of Olympia's Here Today public arts grant in 2009 to create book of photos and poems entitled, What's Being Sent. In August, he will earn his MFA in creative writing from Pacific Lutheran University's Rainier Writing Workshop. Then, he says, he’s going to rest. Carolyn Maddux is a more-or-less retired journalist who teaches creative writing at Olympic College Shelton and sells antiques in downtown Shelton. Her two books are Remembering Water from Bellowing Ark Press and a letterpress chapbook, Voluntary on a Flight of Angels, printed as a benefit for Hypatia-in-the-Woods, a retreat and resource center for women in the arts. Her poetry has appeared in Alaska Quarterly Review, Salal, Crab Creek Review and elsewhere. This program is made possible by generous assistance from the Kent Arts Commission, which has supported poetry in Kent for more than 25 years. The Northwest Renaissance is a nonprofit coalition of Puget Sound-area poets and writers that has produced poetry readings and workshops in many venues since the mid-60s. The organization published an annual chapbook anthology of poems by featured readers as part of its programs at the Kent Canterbury Faire, and now offers a series of free poetry broadsides at Cornucopia Days. The group also has published other anthologies, including Tablets the Rain Inscribes, On the Eighth Day, Pisces, and this year, Jump Start, a collection of poems by established Northwest poets who led workshops for NWR at Highline Community College over a period of 10 years. For more information, contact Marjorie.Rommel@gmail.com.

Ghost Town, USA/ The People on the Bus May 2009

GHOST TOWN, USA May 2009

May 17

sign outside Gateway Produce:

PERSONAL WATERMELON 4/$5.00

5/20

young ladies outside Harney Elementary: “He wants to be with me, but at the same time, he wants to figure out why. . . . She wants to have sex, party, and be a Mom. . . . Three weeks. She says, ‘I’m done.’ I’m tryin’ to get my daughter back, and she’s done after three weeks?”

At the Blue Park

Angelo comments on the graffiti on the picnic table: “It says, ‘Fuck an 80 year old man.’ That’s rude.” ********* Hot Spring day at the Blue Park: Jake and Angelo negotiate the particulars of an epic battle taking place in a parallel universe no adult can see as a young mother in a dark blue skirt, red top, & white sweater embodies basic goodness as she runs, jumps, watches over, photographs her tiny daughter and redefines beauty hips and ass renegotiating the parameters of their denim casing each time she bends to take the little girl’s hand or squats to take a snapshot I smile each time the pitch of her voice rises as the girl teeters at the edge of disaster the sound reminding me of a time when I guarded my own son’s head as if it were the most delicate porcelain ********* swing chant sky is blue blue is high ********* Football game on the field: “Fuck you. I don’t give a shit.” “I got it.” “They’re comin’.” “They don’t listen to me. It doesn’t work.” “I’m gonna getchoo!” “Touchdown, baby!” “Danny, where’re my pancakes. Where’re my pancakes, Danny? C’mere, Danny. C’mere, Danny. Oh, Danny. Fuck this.”

5/25 Outside Harney

“Men. That’s what I was tellin’ you. They always come back, if they know what’s good for ‘em.”

5/31

Sign outside the INTERNATIONAL AIR AND HOSPITALITY ACADEMY:

HAVE YOU EVER TASTED ART?

The People on the Bus

May 1, 2009 #32 to Vancouver Mall

“Almost got raped. Wore short shorts and a tank top.

Wore short shorts and a tank top. I would have got in

so much trouble. . . . I’m afraid of my Dad, ‘cause he’s abusive.”

# 4 Westbound headed downtown

two NY Yankees caps one NY LOVE tee: are all three of them trying to be ironic? “Whenever I hang out with guys, I get in fights.” “That’s probably because they think your girlfriend’s hot.” Slow, chubby blonde w Build-A-Bear Workshop box NY LOVE tattoo tee & jean shorts: “My boyfriend’s gonna be mad when he sees what I bought.

I don’t care. He’s got no money comin’ in, he takes half my money.”

# 32 to Harney Elementary

“I’m planning on a road trip

to California this Summer, to see my Mom again.”

5/6 outside McDonald’s waiting on the # 4

stoic in white hoodie sportin’ gold fronts gotta long day ahead just did 30 days & now they got him running around— must complete 8 applications by 5 today “it’s alright” found 5 just between Grand & Ft. Vancouver Way came here from Micronesia 5 years ago hasn’t done much since fell in with the wrong crowd his homies doing 3 years tell him 30 days is nothing “just think of us,” they say

# 32 to Harney

cute redhead swaps photos with two guys who, like her were recently released: “I was not happy about being in prison. . . . My leg has treads. Who is this really? Is this you?”

5/13 # 32

I see the three of them again the following Wednesday when a douchebag corrections officer in a white van drops them off at the bus stop, speeding away before the doors are even closed 3 sack lunches marked with black Sharpie: WR (work release?) 5-12 “She’d better have something good to say, if she knows what’s good for her. . . . Does she know who I am?”

5/18 waiting for the # 37 Broadway & 13th

crusty old dude in a black cowboy hat black vest, recent Bob Dylan tee leaning on a cane doesn’t want to talk to me speedy old guy with cuts on his face in a cap reading

MERRILL COUNTY SHOOT OUT

limps up and presents an energy drink to the cowboy: “Take a blast of this. Wired. It’s called 'Wired.'

I don’t know what that shit—don’t care.” moments before their bus arrives the cowboy takes a swig: “God-damn.”

5/22 Waiting for the # 4 outside McDonald’s

“I started yesterday. I came to work today, all my shit was packed up.

I just got here from Longview. It’s hard.”

Christopher Luna

Vancouver, WA

May 2009

GHOST TOWN, USA March/April 2009 by Christopher Luna

GHOST TOWN, USA

March/April 2009

3/17 Auto Body Shop Evergreen & V St.

“Di Angelo? Al Angelo? He owns all of Vancouver, and my brother helped him build half of it….”

Waiting Room Vancouver Clinic 3/25

For a moment the woman in the waiting area reading ELIJAH in jeans, red sweater, purple socks, and comfortable shoes forgets herself and throws one leg over the arm of the chair exposing her crotch to the longhair reading poetry seated across from her

Later, in the clinic

Doctor to patient: “Were you kinda goin’ in slow motion? It happens. Things

come out at you, then they turn the corner, and they’re gone….

I’m a Vancouverite all the way. Hudson’s Bay…. What are they

doing out there? It’s crazy. It used to be a nice place, but not anymore.” Nurse: “Go out in the hall and come back. You can still smell it.

The smell is everywhere out here. Sir, do you smell that?

A printer, a marker smell. Yesterday it was doing a

jibbery-jabbery thing up at the top.”

April 2009

April 3

Mint Tea: “I’m proud of her for her convictions. And I think she’s done the research to make the right decisions.” Naked Toes: A Lament In the ‘Couve sunny and balmy give way to hail storm within a matter of moments No matter the weather nor the time of year one encounters young ladies in jeans and flip flops (a footwear choice New York girls make only for the beach) provoking the paternal instincts of this East Coaster: makes me want to buy them all socks

Outside Harney Elementary 4/8

Young woman on cell phone: “Nothing really to be scared of. With him working only one day a week…. OK. I love you.”

At “The Red Park”

“Guess what, Daddy, I went poo poo today, twice!” “In your pants?” “NOOOOOOOO!”

4/18

Stickered letters in the back window of a car heading southbound on I-5 near Fort Lewis:

DEVILS ARE DEAD SOULS

The People on the Bus April 2009

4/22 Evergreen and C Street Waiting for the #32

Guy in brown, paint-spattered hoodie yells out to his pal, who is walking up C Street: “Hey, get a job!” Other guy shouts back: “I’m tryin’.”

#32 4/24

“I don’t really like ‘em, personally. He’s a bottom feeder…. They talk a lot.” GHOST TOWN, USA

Clark College 4/28

ENG 102 student after class: “What’s up with that retarded fat chick? I just wanna stab her with

a salty knife. Sterilize that shit. She is always talking, and when she

doesn’t know what she’s talking about, she lies. One day I’m gonna

stab her. She’s gonna be the first.”

Sign in back window of white pickup parked outside Clark College’s auto mechanics department:

Swine flu Deporting

Christopher Luna

Vancouver, WA

March/April 2009