Friday, April 19, 2019

The telephone pole

Was closed
But open for remodel
An owl a termite a clove of gum
A crappy floor plan
But not worth leveling
The view was pretty
The electric costly
Unless unless
A termite with limitations might be nice
Creosote for tyvek waits for eviction
move in move out
And then
Rotted from within
Wires down pole forgotten
Hauled off towed away
Was it an electrical fire?
Who was here?
Who the conductor?

Denis Streeter.  4/19/19
Written at Phinney Red Mill burgers before contradance.

After my sister read this, she asked if Seattle is losing all its' telephone poles due to underground wiring.  My answer
I don't know.  That's not what it's about.  I looked out the window and saw the telephone pole across the street and it morphed into this...with no editing.  Fact of the matter is I forgot to bring my book in.  Couldn't figure out how to write in my blog on the phone.  So I put it in the form as an email and sent it to myself...then at the last minute I hesitantly sent it to you.  It was only slightly nonlinear.  A couple contradance regulars who eat there asked me what I was writing.  I said a poem.  Oh.  What's it about?  I don't know and handed them my phone so they could read it.      I pointed out the telephone pole.  The guy pointed out a decrepit pole right next to it and thought I got the idea from that.  I hadn't even noticed it.

Denis Streeter    4/19/19

Thursday, April 18, 2019

trumpet lessons

an older customer came through my line
probably mid 80's
so i asked if he had a husky card or alumni card
he said he was alumni but didn't have his card
i said maybe i can look it up by name
he gave his name as walter cole
i said that name sounds familiar
are you in music
did you teach
yes, mostly brass
i think you were my trumpet teacher
do you know roy cummings
he was also my trumpet teacher
what about...hmm...let me think...
walter welke
he was my first trumpet teacher
do your remember music west
i used to take trumpet lessons upstairs just above music west
that was on about 56th and university way
right next door to crucible books
where i used to look through the porn magazines before trumpet practice
long long gone
i told him about how i'd go to walter welke's place for trumpet lessons
i pulled open the curtain, there he was
asleep in his chair
he was always asleep in his chair
mother said go ahead and wake him up
but i was afraid
go on, go ahead
so i'd gently tap his shoulder and he'd startle awake
the lesson began...
walter cole smiled and said yes he could be intimidating and opinionated
he had bought a toucan pen and a binder
i made a copy of his receipt so i would know
because i had forgotten his name after the transaction
it eventually came back
memory is a funny thing
walter cole was not my trumpet teacher
he was my eckstein middle school orchestra teacher
i remember shooting spit wads at flute players i thought were cute
but couldn't admit it
mr cole caught me and called me into his office
i was so frightened
he must have noticed 'cause he only gave me a light talking to and let me go
walter cole taught at eckstein for 24 years
walter welke was my first trumpet teacher, but he was getting old
he referred me roy cummings
that was when i had lessons upstairs above music west next door to the crucible
then there was high school
i was also in the roosevelt marching band with waldo king
but i'm not listed in my senior annual
memories...they all come rushing back
in their joyful and discordant notes.

denis streeter     4/18/19

Sunday, April 14, 2019

no explanation

baskets meet conclusions
two rulers and a fly
rest are forgone
fostered between pages rotting lines
under scaffolds trays emerge
one daft, the other sly
folding in conclusions
f equals g plus i
leftovers into squares
muffling cries feed passages
letters blend fending form
styles language
shedding leaves into diamonds
horseshoes to shade
tables to supper
shingling tablespoons
a matter of degree
comets confusion
a horse's x y's z
cleaning tables of debris
a chatter of bone hides left field
trombones to silence
happy wasteful under sly
pins drop canvas painting cartoons
an indirect fact fictions
what is this about
corners shedding little larry
cartoons pulling covers
late night conclusions underbathe
saddles quicken late
it's about falters
no bridle or rudder
living in self
creation miff
no explanation

denis streeter   4/14/19

Thursday, April 4, 2019

Superfluity 2019

I got the My Book House series volume 1-6 by Olive Beaupre Miller for $35
The Pink Panther 5 DVD set never opened for $5
Some like it Hot on DVD  $2
The Wind in the Willows DVD (1983, Cosgrove Hall Productions)    $2
Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck  DVD    $2
Season 1 of House (Hugh Laurie)  DVD   $5
Layer Cake (Daniel Craig from 2004)  DVD     $2
Book:  Mary Poppins (Never read the book, loved Mary Poppins Returns movie)   $1
Book:  The Pig Tale - Lewis Carroll, illustrations by Leonard Lubin   $1
3 rubber stamps for 75 cents (gift to sister's friends kids)
Duncan yoyo with govornor (speed control) - clear so you can see gears inside) for $2
Angle Shot puzzlebox for 75 cents - looks like an old match box with different angle wood pieces
Space heater for $12.  (bedroom heater stopped working)
New can opener to replace old one for $1

I came with $55 cash
Left with $20 cash
Paid for $35 Book House series on my card
$70 I spent at the Pre-Sale.

I'll be back tomorrow and Saturday, but will limit myself.
I've already blown my budget.

Denis Streeter   4/4/19

Sunday, March 24, 2019

The Frivolous Cake

I've been reading Titus Groan by Mevyn Peake.
This is one of the most amazing passages, at 16% in the library ebook.
A nonsense piece that I aspire toward, with my own writing style.
Lines are reproduced exactly as they appear in the book.

            A freckled
and frivolous cake
there was
sailed        on           a
pointless sea,
                Or         any
lugubrious           lake

there was
                  In             a
manner          emphatic 
and free.
jointlessly,   and    how
frivolous           cake
sailed by
              On          the
waves  of  the  ocean
that   pointlessly
fish to the lilac sky.
               Oh,     plenty
and plenty   of     hake
there was
             Of        a
glory            beyond
               And   every
conceivable     make
there was
tossed through  the
lilac air.

           Up         the
smooth billows and
over the crests
                   Of    the
combers flew
frivolous  cake  with
a knife in the wake
herself     and      her
curranty crew.
                 Like       a
swordfish   grim     it
would  bounce  and
dinner  knife  fierce
and blue),
                 And   the
frivolous  cake  was
filled to the brim
                   With the
fun  of  her  curranty

               Oh,  plenty
and  plenty  of   hake
there was
                   Of        a
glory             beyond
compare -
              And  every
conceivable    make
there was
tossed  through  the
lilac air.
              Around  the
shores        of       the
Elegant Isles
the    cat-fish     bask
and purr
                And    lick
their     paws     with
adhesive smiles

wriggle their fins of
               They     fly
and   fly  'neath   the
lilac sky -
frivolous   cake,  and
the knife
winketh                his
glamorous       indigo
                   In       the
wake   of   his  future

crumbs   blow   free
down  the  pointless
                     To   the
beat     of    a   cakey
                And    the
sensitive    steel   of
the knife can feel
love is a race apart.
                In        the
speed      of         the
lingering   light   are
crumbs  to  the  hake
               And       the
tropical  air  vibrates
to the drone
                  Of          a
cake in the throes  of

Mervyn  Peake, from Titus Groan

Denis Streeter    3/24/19           

Saturday, March 2, 2019

the times were coming

When the plans stayed in place
Oven driven orange rind
Kneading tomorrow flying away 
Over window sills side gathering
Checking living room left behind
Liquid green and livered orange
Smash between two nets
Moon sung curtains sugar and hide
Drunk as cockerel spin
Stuck between faces
Ladles flounder.  
Leaven short of space
Fish break feeding masses
Oven canoes a shade becoming
Early by design
Sleep opens the deep.  It's already there.
Open dream book.  No texting here.
Where you are is guessing.  Read between the lines.
That circus, that merry go round
Keeps spinning.

Denis Streeter.  3/2/19

Thursday, February 28, 2019

it's got to go

the chickens were potworthy underdone
always squawking the fence
too many kibbles behind the door
too many huts for the salad handle
a cashmere sweater and honky tonk wine
that's where they rather
splicing the blues with a gaffer
all the commotion with none of the wind
force feeding seminals for arrival
the dogs were eating the cats gravy
the husbands hadn't arrived
grass was burning, but it didn't matter
katzenjammers notwithstanding
a corpse a feather a sack of wine
nothing to follow the blather
the socks were for hanging. there were no gallows
a shred of lightning longing for sun
it's what you'd expect under the gun
the flannel wolfs with the lamb
dungaree doggerels but it doesn't matter
a locksmith to snicker the blather
it doesn't come or go.  it smiles in place.
rabbit stew wolves in trace
it's a cockamamie proposition
cabbage and wire, pasty and wren
always ready for feasting
grab a stick and badger up.  it's not for burning
wine and assholes never mix.  they just confide.
it's a caper in the making
settle down.  I got this now
chicken on out
cows got the jumper cables
just need some traction.  there.  that's nice.
insert caption where needed
right here? no.
it's got to go.

denis streeter    2/28/19