blue morning
ghost of a moon smile
three vultures
///
by James Brush
Year: 2016
my yard work helper
throws mud, laughing
high forties
running through sprinklers
in filthy pj’s
like Guthrie his
guitar screams
this machine
kills fascists
this guitar
is an animal’s bite
imperfect neck gripped
tight to sparse
applause for a
street busker
trying to change
the world
each measure
a fool’s gamble
might as well
ask the planets
change orbits
for a few coins?
a loose needle
some matches
a few bucks
in the guitar case
open like a mouth
in mid-phrase
///
That’s the video I made for “God Bless Johnny Cash” which is now part of Highway Sky. It’s the first video poem I ever made, and while it’s a bit rough, I still kind of dig it. Along with “Chasing Westward,” I’ve made two videos for the Highway Sky poems, but what really excites me is the idea of creative remix, which is why the poems in Highway Sky are all licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike-NonCommercial license.
I was inspired by the example of The Poetry Storehouse and its radical sharing/remix culture based on the same Creative Commons license used for Highway Sky. I participated in The Poetry Storehouse as a poet, reader, and remixer and found the whole experience to be so wonderful that I wanted to release Highway Sky under the same terms and see what, if anything might come of it. (Incidentally, “For Gasoline” and “angels” are available for remix there along with a few of my other poems).
So, for anyone interested in remixing anything in Highway Sky, I offer the following resources:
Text
Free PDF version of Highway Sky (please note, the cover photo is copyrighted by the photographer and the Creative Commons License does not apply to it). Please contact me if you would like a free pdf copy for review or creative remix.
Additionally, early drafts of many of the poems can be found here under the tag highway sky draft poems
Audio
These are all of me reading some of the poems:
“For Gasoline” (text available at The Poetry Storehouse)
“Angels” (text available at feathers & The Poetry Storehouse)
“Night at the Interstate Diner” (text available at qarrtsiluni)
U.S. Highways
Chasing Westward
Of course, please abide by the terms of the license, and if you want to make a hit song, broadway musical, or some other commercial product out of any of my poems, you’ll need to get in touch with me. But we’ll be able to work something out.
And, while we’re at it, here’s the video I made for “Chasing Westward” which is also included in my short collection Birds Nobody Loves.
“Chasing Westward”
red bud blossoms
flickers of warmth
in grey fog
I’m very happy to announce that my new book Highway Sky is now live.
Highway Sky is a collection of road poems published here on Coyote Mercury and in various fine journals, ‘zines, sites, and anthologies over the past seven years.
As of right now, Highway Sky is available in paperback in the following places: Amazon, my e-store, Barnes & Noble, and probably most anywhere else you can order books. There is also a Kindle edition and a free .pdf edition version is available for review or creative remix. Contact me for more info.
The following poems from the collection were previously published. Where there are working links, they can be read online. My thanks to the editors of the following journals for publishing these…
“Sonnet Found in a Road Atlas” Verbatim Found Poetry (Jun 2015)
“a hundred miles out” tinywords (Apr 2015, Issue 15.1)
“All the Way” Synchronized Chaos (Mar 2015)
“Three Scenes from the Road” The Lake (Mar 2015)
“windshield rain” A Blackbird Sings: A Book of Short Poems (Woodsmoke Press, Sep 2012)
“if there are angels” feathers (Apr 2012)
“North Through Fog.” Houston Literary Review (Feb 2011)
“Night at the Interstate Diner.” qarrtsiluni (Dec 2010 – The Crowd issue)
“Highway 73 to Port Arthur.” a handful of stones (Jul 2010)
“Deeper into Texas.” America Remembered (Virgogray* Press Chapbook Anthology Jul 2010)
“Miles (Never Once Imagined).” Carcinogenic Poetry (May 2010)
“I-10 Eastbound.” Carcinogenic Poetry (May 2010)
“We Talk of Trains.” ouroboros review (Jul 2009 – No. 3)
“A Texas Highway in Springtime.” Bolts of Silk (May 2009)
And, thanks to The Poetry Storehouse for making “For Gasoline” and “angels” available for creative remix. (Incidentally, all of the individual poems in Highway Sky are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike-NonCommercial license so if you want to envideo/remix… have at it.)
Many of the poems first appeared here in draft form. You can read those early drafts here. Some are draftier than others, but I offer my sincerest thanks to the many people who commented, critiqued and left feedback on these drafts over the past seven years. It has meant a lot to me.
I hope you’ll check it out and help spread the word. Thank you.
the stiff-legged dog still
wants to play and race
old bones, stretched
taut muscles like lightning
through molasses across
the yard like she tore up
the house as a puppy once
a white storm with black ears
and teeth she flinches
when I put the ointment on
the scrapes from falling, but
I think she knows I’m helping
her know I understand you
are not having fun if
you’re not getting hurt
///
The polished geniuses on TV talked relativity the day my favorite chili joint closed down. Rumors say it’ll be resurrected someday inside a luxury condo retail office project, which just reminds me of the punk clubs of my youth—old warehouses now torn down as the knights of progress routed the nights of rock n roll, leaving behind one faint note, the endless sustain of a beautifully overdriven pawn shop guitar fading forever beneath silent city stars, a ripple in passing gravity waves.
///
This Is Not a Literary Journal :: The Prompt that Keeps on Prompting
Blue eyes mean avalanches, the old climber warned. Passersby glanced up at condos rising downtown like fingers set to claw the sun. So little light filtered down through the shadows, everyone shivered in the heat. Two panhandlers played the same song in different keys on opposite sides of the street. One man, with crampons and ice axe, started to scale the tallest condo. His friend watched him begin his ascent then ducked into a Thai restaurant where members of his support group met on Tuesdays to start a new political movement. Avalanches could be metal, bricks or piles of trash, stony absences where everything that mattered used to be.
///
This Is Not a Literary Journal :: Leaving Mount Everest Alone
the cold doesn’t respect
you. the tattoo hides
behind your jacket. the wind
goes digging sharktoothed
nibbling skin. everything
hidden surfaces. revealed
true-love shark tattoos swim
deep away from weekend
fisherman cold and insolent
on seas they claim they own.
—
This is for the “True love shop” prompt at This Is Not a Literary Journal.