Poem A Day, On A Postcard, August 2010

written by: Cory Q

The internet has an amazing power to both divide and connect people. This is a story of connection.

Via an ongoing discussion each Tuesday on twitter called Poet Tuesday, I was introduced to this blog. The owner of the blog challenges participants to write a poem on a postcard for each day of August and to then mail that postcard to a stranger. The strangers are all people who have signed up to also write a poem a day and send them off to others on the list. It is a very simple idea.

I decided right off the bat to write all of my poems to the same form. That way I wouldn't have to reinvent the wheel each day.

First, here is a collage of the last part of the postcards I sent. I didn't get pictures of the first 14 cards. So it goes.

The full size image can be viewed here.

I tried to write each card from the place pictured or as a story from that place. You will also notice a series of poems about "Mildred" and the narrator of the poems.

1- River Falls, A Picture of the falls themselves:
To Diane, San Francisco CA.

There is a college in this town
And a river that runs dark and sweet
It murmurs hear-say as it tumbles down
That folks call truth on the picket fence street.
The roads are good, the prices fair
But alas, its so far from here to there.

2- Wisconsin, an amusing cartoon map:
To Lily, Seattle WA.

I went to Hayward, home of a burly lumberjack
And on to Superior (via lift bridge), across the bay from Duluth
Watched sailboats on the waves, into the wind they tack.
Fought a wicked badger, ragged, quite uncouth
But it is the wilderness that spreads out amongst lakes
And the bucolic verdure that my breath Wisconsin takes.

3- Linen era, Index and Pilot Peaks:
To Peter, Chicago IL.

North of Yellowstone and the buffalo herds
That gather in the shade of the Grand Teton
Sky so magnificent it can't be caged in words
Wilderness of crags and pine stretches on and on
This is the west, the real west, that Clark and Meriwether
Suffered by to bring the Coasts together.

4- St Francis status at Como Conservatory:
To Dawn-Marie, Duvall WA.

There is a dusky lush sunken garden
Near the front pictured stony saint...
Love the zoo, but beg pardon
The whole place could use a coat of paint.
Cloistered vows wed under the glass dome
Above where koi, piebald, call home.

5- House on the Rock Inn, Spring Green, WI:
To Sarah, Barre VT.

This hotel, plain, brown, plebeian, dismissible
Is the unassuming key and hidden gate
To the house on a table-rock, a place of fable
Where American Gods weave the silk of fate.
Or, perhaps the place is a madman’s spasm and cry
To leviathans, dolls, apocalyptic carousel; The people... "Why?"

6- Random Minnesota lake with reeds:
To Mya, Arlington VA.

The lakes 'round here, (there are more than ten thousand)
Are the soul, glacier born, of the State
Diminutive two acre affairs to Superior cold and grand
Anger capped white to mirrors of sunset sedate
But lakes are naught without kind woods to shelter
All who seek refuge from icy lash and summer swelter.

7- Annual Christmas Tree Scene, Watertown SD:
To Ginny, Hartford CT.

Jagged winter on the plains cracks the mind,
Compels people to dismal and convoluted rites
In rail towns and silo shadows you will find
Pioneer Day parades, metal tower Silent Nights
There is good too, in cafes, co-ops, drug stores
Honest men, comely women, doing chores.

8- Florida flowers in orange:
To Suzanne, Philadelphia PA.

Aunt Flo is sick again. She drinks too much,
Laughs at her plastic plant then cries at the very same.
Left her Camels and TV Guide in the corner hutch
Burned all the pictures of her ex in their frames
This vacation isn’t much to write about, sorry for that
But thanks, while I’m away, for feeding the cat.

9- Benson Drug Store, Morris, MN:
To Toni, Eugene OR.

Potato isn't as romantic as "apple of the earth"
The fault line down 4th street produced a 3.1
Beer-stale basement apartments packed with mirth
Sweltering brightness of the June prairie sun
It’s a college town with the same new stories each year
A liberal arts haven on the long grass frontier.

10- Linen era, American Falls of Niagara:
To Lynn, San Leandro CA.

We made it to Niagara, but the honeymoon? Disaster.
The Ford got a flat (twice!), Mildred lost her best frock
The hotel smells of fish, the ceiling had cracked plaster
Couldn’t get tickets for a show, the line was around the block!
We both want to just get home to the flat
And put out our Mr and Mrs welcome mat.

11-Snow Fog and Mineapolis skyline with Christmas lights:
To Rebecca, Glen Carbon IL.

Snow fogged offices in front, back to Minnehaha
Icy shards across the face and smoking hand
Waiting for her waiting shift to end, wishing for the thaw
That clears the piled water and returns us to dry land.
“I need a better hat” ring the stinging ear
As the Presbyterian bell calls in the New Year.

12- Famous Cincinnati Chili recipe:
To Laura, Greenfield MA.

I meant to send you something bucolic, pleasing, serene
But the trip unfurled in spasms like an unhinged rant
We are now hold up in the municipal airport (Moline)
And my post choices are brutally scant.
Cincinnati chili is a completely random card
But I do send it with my highest regards!

13-Jax Café with live flamingos and trout, Minneapolis, MN:
To Bobbie, South Slocan B.C.

A flamingo stepped in my bisque
Mildred tripped spread eagle into the stream
Since when has fine dining been such a risk?
I expected to get a face full of whipped cream
Pie as dessert. Enough of this pell-mell
Tomorrow we will eat at the hotel.

14- Wells Ice Cream Parlor, LeMars, IA:
To Shayla, Detroit MI.

Families on vacation, sticky hand treats
Parlor facsimile of a never-was past
Grandma buys a shot glass, the lonely boy eats.
One of them, in their hotel, will get trashed.
The ice cream is prime, the town light industrial
Passable, yes, but does not beguile.

**This is the first card in the collage above. Each poem that follows corresponds to a card pictured, in order** 15- Humorous, Bears in the Campsite:
To Mary, St Louis MO.

Someone joked that bears are a threat
To America itself... After this camping trip,
Where they ate all my brie and baguette
The woods I can most decidedly skip.
Mildred hated the bugs and outdoor can
Next time a nice motor lodge will be the plan.

16- Random Arizona scene, cactus and stone:
To Jill, Delmar NY.

(a true story)
Arizona, Your buttes and cactus remained elusive
'89 Accord, fuel pump expired gently by a Spanish mission
Eighty four miles still west across desert abusive
Our Great Road Trip West never came to full fruition
We limped home, transmission not full power
Driving three thousand miles to see only Devil’s Tower.

17- Random Minnesota forest and stream:
To Diana, Berlin, Germany.

Agates and flint hide in the tiny waves
Vulpine steps break the surface glass
Nothing now marks the Voyageur graves
As the water runs to bog and morass.
Hematite in the ground, aspen in the air
North Minnesota, both rugged and fair.

18- Harbor Motel, Crescent City (black and white):
To Jessica, Minneapolis MN.

We sagged into this motel past midnight
Breakers in the close dark as our lullaby
Raccoons out back gave Mildred a fright
We laughed about it over cola and rye
Nicked cold sandwiches from Abel (our host)
Tomorrow its shell gathering on the coast.

19- Cartoon Wyoming Map:
To Laura, Watertown MA.

Strange testament to the cartographer's artifice
Not dragons, but "Here there be helium and potatos"
Giant gold bars in Laramie? Sorry, no dice.
Over Teton and plains westward a nation flows
Measuring distance in hours horizon staring
Dreaming of gold rush pioneers daring.

20- "Greetings from UPPER AND LOWER WEBB LAKE":
To JC, Atlanta GA.

Weather pre-autumnal, been out on the pontoon
The guys acted unchivalrous in a state of blitz
I’m still anxiously pining that Mildred will swoon
Though my behavior around all that Schlitz
Might mean this camping weekend was a bust
But with my heart I think her I should entrust.

21- Pipestone Monument sign, Pipestone, MN:
To Carolee, Castleton NY.

Geologically it’s Catlinite, for a white painter
Presbyterian girls play at Longfellow's Kalevala
The Three Sisters turn their stony backs demur
On the pink quartzite that is Main Street East.
A town full of Monk’s and other people’s stories
Of heart ache, winter, and Iwo Jima* glory.

*Bill Genaust was from Pipestone.

22- Oxbow Inn, Amana IA:
To Eliza, Federal Way WA.

Drove from St Paul, at wavering dusk we made town
The food here sticks to the ribs and everything else inside
All possible starches slathered in gravy brown
Rough dark wood and Delft plates, chicken fried.
Seen a few horse and buggies by a farm place
Lots of antiques, washing machines, Amish lace.

23- "Hello from Danbury, Wisconsin", Canoes in the rapids:
To David, Renton WA

So many depend
upon

the red and yellow
canoes

through the white
water

beside the pine
barrens.

24-Cranberry Bog
To Judy, Nelson, British Columbia, Canada.

A strange scene along a wooden road: Tractor, conveyor
Men in (a sexual role reversal) high latex boots in vibrant red
At lunch in rundown Al’s Hilltop Café, the mayor
Says it’s the cranberry bogs that supply daily bread
In These Parts. Farming is more than soil fields,
It is harvesting wherever the earth yields.

25- Glass on shelves, House On The Rock, Spring Green, WI:
To Sylvia, Kent WA.

Consider what is lost in these road side places
Loose coins, tiny communiqués, cheap artifacts
Vanishing into invisible, dust smothered spaces.
The British Museum is brimming with glass, intact
From the Roman conquest. Were they lost
In baths and brothels or cast aside, tossed?

26- Pomme De Terre Park, Morris, MN.
To Evelyn, Glen Burnie MD.

It means 'apple of the earth', you know,
Everyone's favorite tuber (beside the peanut)
From lefse to mashed with garlic: Potato.
This is my college town, wicked winters but
The joy of all young flesh and spring elm trees
Where we absconded into twilight soybean fields with ease.

27- Hoover Library, West Bend IA:
To Rosemary, Rio Rancho NM.

Herbert was a Geologist by trade
Food for the children of Europe his legacy
Organizing the flow of World War One aid.
Brought ruin, "A man out of touch!", prima facie
He did the job as a Quaker, without complaining
A scapegoat to finance and the voters remaining.

28- Linen era, American Falls of Niagara and Cave of the Winds:
To Amy, Davis CA.

When we were upon the enshrouding spray
An old man, crying, caught my eye atop.
The tour guides lips brushed my ear to say
"That man? Comes each year, this day, to the drop
A vigil to his virgin bride who, inebriated,
Stumbled from that very spot to the rocks unabated".

29 –Birches along the North Shore (card has scalloped edges):
To Diane, San Francisco CA.

Between Castle Danger and Silver Bay
Mildred and I skipped stones in the sound.
Her lumbago was flaring up around mid-day
And my bad knee did our preamble confound.
We’re getting decrepit, that much is true
But the hours take on such a lustrous hue.

30- "Fall Majesty" or an autumn road to anywhere:
To Peter, Chicago IL

White streaks flitter on black bituminous
Like the night your necklace snapped, luminous
Pearls In the kitchen light before the dark rescission
My bones ache with the autumnal approach
Summer was too promiscuous, cold front reproach.
The old byways are haunted, no longer elysian.

31- Man in red coat standing in a boat fishing:
To Lily, Seattle WA

Sad news this hazy day from the Sheriff Steve
Louie went fishing drunk on Cold Duck again, drown
The VFW is in mourning, their numbers bereaved.
“Who stands up to cast?” Someone said in town.
It’ll be strange not to see his old green boat
On foggy mornings, always in that red wool coat.

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