Wednesday, August 27, 2014

The Quiet World

by Jeffrey McDaniel

In an effort to get people to look
into each others' eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

How other music festival campsites roll

I'm quite happy that the Winnipeg Folk Festival's camping area is free range.  This is an aerial photo of the Pemberton Music Festival's camping grounds in Pemberton, B.C.  While I admire the efficiency, I prefer the wide open spaces of Bird's Hill Park.


For a comparison, here's a 2010 aerial view of the festival camping grounds at the Winnipeg Folk Festival:

I'm a little prairie flower / growing wilder by the hour / nobody cares to cultivate me / so I'm as wild as wild can be!

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

The Trail Is Not a Trail

by Gary Snyder

I drove down the Freeway
And turned off at an exit
And went along a highway
Til it came to a sideroad
Drove up the sideroad
Til it turned to a dirt road
Full of bumps, and stopped.
Walked up a trail
But the trail got rough
And it faded away
Out in the open,
Everywhere to go.