Poetry — July 14, 2011 14:04 — 0 Comments

Letter To Ed – David Scronce

Super Bowl Sunday: Pittsburgh plays
Green Bay, so I think of you
and Blizzard, December 2. I shiver

though it’s 70. I may have to root
for the Cheese Heads since Bill’s
from the Dairy State. He turned 59
on Friday and we’re just sobering up.
I’m in the yard in shorts, which doesn’t
happen often. No blizzard here,
no rust belt snow covering the truck
stop waitresses. Saw Bob Hass on
Thursday, a big white wad between
his eyes to remind the young to wear
sunblock, he said. This is not L.A.
so I knew it wasn’t a nose job.
A bee landed on my sleeve, crossed
my wrist, and settled in my palm.
I stood so still I felt it breathe.

Bio:

David Scronce is the author of the chapbook, Letters to Liam (Red Berry Editions, 2009). He lives in San Francisco with his partner Bill, an excellent cook. “Letter to Ed” is addressed to poet, editor, and mentor Ed Ochester. David’s poems have appeared in several journals including 5AM, Confrontation, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and Rhino. This season, his poems will appear in such diverse literary landscapes as Bayou, Spillway, and Permafrost. David’s strongest memory of Seattle, from a visit in the ‘70’s, is seeing little crabs conquering the rocky shore of Bainbridge Island.

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What am I?

Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies

Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;

Scientists can't find me.

Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—

Remind me:

The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…

Tick, Tock: Divine me.

-- Richard Kenney

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