issue 3, february 2000

I'm down by the riverside minding

my own business when the memory

blues come walking throug the jewel

weed. She's hiding your shoulder

high thighs inside a dress bright

as Easter/ She asks if he's nice, she bends

to pet my dog, her hair

brushes my wrist, her neck smells

like candy and rain. Jacques kisses

her shoe while I float back to Blue

Island, Illinois, missing the Mississippi

and you, no river deep as the blue

butter in your eyes, where the corn

is as as tall as the sky.

about Townes Van Zandt when the memory

blues come through Chengdu, the bass

notes from Flying Shoes dance

with the pear blossoms, but in this blue

wind there's no place to fall: from Houston

to Galway to the three

gorges the Hopkins

brothers, Lightnin' and Father

Gerard, are singing Snowin'

On Raton in country blue

sprung rhythm, knowing there is no blue

deep enough to keep it from snowing

all over the world.

© copyright 2000 brown electric/cthunder inc., all other by permission