October 27, 2010 § 4 Comments

DRUM ©2010 jgoldberg

original poems and drawings, designed and handset by the author, limited edition, printed on Canson Edition paper

from the colophon:
DRUM was conceived as an amulet on the
nearing occasion of a rotator cuff repair
& like the remaking of my shoulder this book
was made with the help of others

the fonts are
Bernhard Gothic, Blado, Poliphilus, Centaur,
Phenix, Bembo, Abbott Old Style


a day of plenty; thoughts on self-reliance

October 23, 2010 § 5 Comments


just to say again, thank you for the place, and space, and your time and willingness…and your help

years ago paul and I took a wilderness canoe trip in the Laurentian Shield of Quetico…three weeks, so far in we we saw no other humans, had islands to ourselves and packs, and a canoe to carry which in time, over longer portages he started doing himself, since it was less awkward, and it upset me and otherwise frightened me how incredibly dependent I was, and otherwise possibly screwed if something happened to him…and I would have these little tempests where I’d insist on carrying the canoe myself…impossible of course…and I didn’t like it, and didn’t give it up either, didn’t learn is what I mean

and clearly this thing about doing it oneself still is complicated and rears its funny head for me at various times,

so it was a nice peaceful place to realize–amidst so much during this time of rotator cuff repair depending on the time and kindness of others for the most basic of things–that of course I would need help printing this book, and it is, was, a false god if you will to have needed to ‘do it by myself’ and so there we are, there we were the many of us, standing side by side, in this co-op, in this co-operative place and time there we are co-operating…it’s quixotic really this lure of doing it all by myself…and, in its own way self reliance is of course, limiting…and even amidst the bustle and tear of the many I believe I came away with some of the attending-to lessons in hand; centers, and justification, measurements and the humility and hubris of upside down f’s and s’s and out of school o’s..and the never ending, even for the best of them, last minute or in the minute problems to be solved, and the unwavering mysteries of perfection opposing the more appealing for me face of excellence…there it is of course, on the face of it my default is not perfection, just as it is not symmetrical…

anyway appreciating metaphors as I do, the notion of shouldering is brought to bear, and the poetry of DRUM itself…’even the moon loses face’

and at our, (read my) age, the even more I might think clearly for myself, less and less will I (be able to) do things by myself…the canoe thing, all over again…

which makes this co-operative venture that much more


a drama in at least 3 acts, or maybe just a round robin

October 21, 2010 § 1 Comment

the insipid tones are a tell,
that whatever shrug & wave

of hand, that not so final exit with a
backward glance, but it’s the no matter

how big the walkaround still
tripping on your outstretched leg

that illuminates the nothing
which is of course something

you never said you wanted, as if
you didn’t, that I was supposed to know

and now that I do, you don’t
oh baby

cranberry biscotti

October 18, 2010 § 1 Comment

homemade (with pecans and fennel) as if I were grown up
or a balebuste and prone to such things,
or as if I weren’t, but I am

it’s not a calling as if that were a disclaimer, as if at my age I need such a thing as if I never grew vegetables baked a turkey made pies from scratch canned peaches pressed cider made fruit leather and yoghurt had chickens with a damned fine coop good layers too made all our bread cut our own firewood sweat in our own sauna until

enough was enough and I went to nursing school got divorced left town got a job remarried moved on,

yet as if it were a surprise, like this morning’s rain, the biscotti like it was not my department
were damned good


October 16, 2010 § 1 Comment

the way,
her heels
the floor

I know
the look

pocket canyon dusk

October 12, 2010 § Leave a comment

it is not the line of cars
but the way the light

on the road is
glinting through the trees

that puts me in mind of
coming home

UPPER & lower case

October 12, 2010 § Leave a comment

Where Am I?

You are currently viewing the archives for October, 2010 at here.say..