Thursday, June 07, 2007

MARKINGS IN THE DUST

MY poem ‘Markings in the Dust’ appeared in the May 2007 issue of Red River Review. This is a fully electronic literary journal edited by Bob McCranie, one of the founding members of the Dallas Poets Community. Bob is the former editor of both The Dallas Review and the UT-Dallas student journal, Sojourn. In January of 1994, Bob received his Master of Fine Arts in Writing from Vermont College. He has recently published poetry in New Texas 2002 and has work forthcoming in Bay Windowsand the anthology "New Dudes - Gents, Badboys, and Barbarians II" (Windstorm Creative Press). He has previously published work in A&U -America's AIDS Magazine, RFD, Bay Windows, MindPurge, Nightfire, Contexas, the University of Southwestern Louisiana Chapbook, PIF Magazine, CleanSheets and The James White Review. Bob won the 1992 John Z. Bennett Award for Poetry from the University of Southwestern Louisiana and was a finalist in the 2002 Inkwell Press poetry prize.


The journal’s masthead says: The purpose of this journal is to publish quality poetry using the latest technology. Red River Review is a journal for poets serious enough to have studied the craft of writing and for readers who enjoy being stirred and moved by language.

Here’s my poem:

Markings In The Dust

Nothing provides him shade. So
the scorching heat of April sun
tans his skins he looks like
a dressed life-size bronze statue.
Sweat marinates his body
and soaks his red t-shirt.

He smells of the sun.
At the roadside,
getting dustier each day
due to the absence of rain,
he peddles Sweepstakes tickets.
Leaning against the concrete fence

of the school run by nuns,
he repeatedly announces
that the draw will be on Sunday,
as if reciting a litany of praise.
But it seems his voice
is just a whisper no passersby

dares looking at him.
The booklet is still intact.
At late afternoon,
his foot trembles, his leg hardens
due to the pressure of his weight.
It’s good enough the two shafts

suspended under his armpits
are made of hardwood.
By sunset, he goes home
leaving in the dust
a single trace of slipper mark
and a hole on each side.