By Laurie James, Salida, Colorado
A woman I saw yesterday had
small crooked hands that clutched
at her coat to keep the cold out.
Her head was wrapped in scarves,
like snakes ready to strike.
by Laurie James In the early fall of 2000, driving back from a Talking Gourds poetry gathering at Windy Point on the Uncompahgre Plateau, poet Jude Janett proposed that she and I start a poetry festival in Salida. She led a writing circle I had been in for a couple of years and had gotten …
Illusion By Laurie James Illusion wears a fur coat but pulls the wool over my eyes Her stale breath reeks of coffee and bad teeth You can hear those old songs in the back of her throat I ride her piggyback over the pins and needles of the great plateau to where she sleeps on …
by Eduardo Rey Brummel Back in 2003, when Craig Nielson was hosting monthly “P3” (Poetry Prose Performance) evenings at the former Bongo Billy’s Café in Salida, he would occasionally witness ensemble performances, which he had also seen during a local poetry festival named Sparrows. Liking the idea of working with other poets, he conceived of …
By Laurie James, Salida, Colorado
A woman I saw yesterday had
small crooked hands that clutched
at her coat to keep the cold out.
Her head was wrapped in scarves,
like snakes ready to strike.