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week of April 26 - May 2, 2010



Burgess Needle and Trisha Freeman




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A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast | I'd Like to Bake Your Goods | Stolen Mummies | Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town
Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo
| I'm a Jew, Are You? | Lizard King of the Laundromat | I Am My Own Orange County
Paris: It's The Cheese
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Burgess Needle
bbneedle@cox.net

Bio (auto)

I treasure the serendipitous links forged by Poetry Super Highway, especially this one to you. Please consider examining the above link to a sample of my poetry. EVERY CROW IN THE BLUE SKY [Diminuendo Press], a new collection of poems by Burgess Needle "...is exquisite..." says Ruth Stone. Check out his poetry at: www.everycrowinthebluesky.com. "Here is a storyteller of verve and brio," says Adam Piette, Professor of Modern Literature, University of Sheffield, UK. This is narrative verse that will snap you to life.

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by Burgess Needle and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


Pistachio Ice Cream

How is it that in Chiengmai they ponder
the touch of sunlight on durian
as hungry jets swell with fuel
Peer over life's cliff and hear the engines sputter
daylight daylight
......before they catch
to exhale the present
In a ship about to cast off the captain holds
an embossed ticket in his hand
knowing the farthest shore needs no visa
Think about this in Tarlac and Kwangju
where only the moon is familiar
and the languages are whispering leaves
Imagined ports of call disappear around every
next corner before day's last green flash
lulls a body off to breathe
in latitude
...............out longitude
Pray in Kabul where the oranges are blood red
and vendors sell pistachio ice cream
in an April just this side of frost
Float through Bangkok's market past
a man named Samsong who sells
three mangoes for two baht
Wrinkled letters await
in Lashio and Santa Cruz de Tenerife
entreat all to reconsider
good-bye
...............good-bye
Grasp time before it all ends with a final toast
.and your own name sounds strange
.even foreign



Trisha Freeman
trishafreeman@gmail.com

Bio (auto)

I'm endlessly fascinated with how information, articles, books, works of art, find people; much in the same way that people find one another. I live my life unafraid of dropping into the black abyss of pain and suffering and am equally excited at the thought of floating on a cloud. Documenting these moments, these feelings, are my passion. I was born, raised, and continue to reside in Portland, Oregon. If you ever visit this beautiful small city, I'm the girl with the smile on her face.

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by Trisha Freeman and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


a single thought

a newspaper rustles
a ball bounces
and I think of you
because that's all I have now
well
have ever had of you
a thought on my brain
you gave me no more
so I left
and here I lay
with another man
in his bed

and it was only a few months ago
you were inside of me
and we talked about having babies


A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast | I'd Like to Bake Your Goods | Stolen Mummies | Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town
Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo
| I'm a Jew, Are You? | Lizard King of the Laundromat | I Am My Own Orange County
Paris: It's The Cheese
| Poetry Super Highway | Judaic Links | Rick's Bookmarks | Cobalt Poets
E-mail Rick
| Other Cool Rick Stuff / Upcoming Readings | Who The Hell Is Rick