Thursday, January 30, 2014

Rudimentary



Rudimentary

The moon's one-time husband
bright-flashes a winter night sky,
broken roadside whiskey barrels
in a tar-ebony January dream,
Sean O'Casey's windowsill dirt
from Drums Under the Windows:
your one-lunged chest inflates...
pride as Styrofoam dartboard.

THE SOUTHERN REVIEW (Winter 2014) Presents Two Ciara Shuttleworth Poems



The Southern Review
(Winter 2014)

Presents Two Ciara Shuttleworth Poems:

Deck of Hearts
and
Highway

The Southern Review is a quarterly literary journal published by Louisiana State University.

 Ciara Shuttleworth
(Winside, Nebraska, 1980's)


Ciara Shuttleworth's poems have appeared in Los Angeles Review, The New Yorker, and The Norton Introduction to Literature, 11e.  She was born in San Francisco, but grew up in Nebraska, Nevada, and Washington State.  Currently she lives and works in New York City.

Ciara Shuttleworth


Sunday, January 26, 2014

OFFICIAL LEAGUES: A Chapbook Poetry Anthology



Official Leagues

a chapbook poetry anthology featuring

Tom Clark
Dave Kelly
Adrian C. Louis
Red Shuttleworth


Tom Clark

Dave Kelly

Adrian C. Louis

Red Shuttleworth



Official Leagues is published in a limited edition of 44 copies by Bunchgrass Press.  To request a copy of Official Leagues, correspond with one of the included poets.


Thursday, January 23, 2014

WINTERTIDE IV: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook


Wintertide IV

poems

Red Shuttleworth


The Fourth (and final) Wintertide poetry chapbook by Red Shuttleworth contains four new poems from bleak-early 2014:

Neither Light of the Sun

Without City

Seventh-Night

Downpour


All copies of Wintertide IV (and the other chapbooks in this series) are subscribed to.  Each of the four chapbooks is published in a limited edition by Bunchgrass Press.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Rapture



Rapture

A FedEx truck throws wintry dust...
rumble-rolls for a neighbor's farm.

          * * *

The slapdash-lingerie girl
(way back in high school)
gives you a redwood burl
seven-inch tall, painted-blue,
oxygen-starved, face-splintered,
skinny arms-outstretched-
from-crucifixion, Jesus.
The assignment, she says,
was to make a tiki.
You both start half
pieces of Juicy Fruit gum,
then kiss real somber-sincere.
Weren't enough time, she says,
to carve out a cross... and, anyway,
like usual, teacher's short of wood.

          * * *

You don't expect to be
transported to anybody's heaven.
You don't reckon
you'll be caught up in clouds.
The lady missionaries at your door
ask what kind of dog is it
standing behind you big as a bear.
The scrawny one is pale green
as if rolled in chalk dust...
nearly translucent.  Her partner-
in-Thessalonians, long-past-heyday,
talks everlasting destruction.
The dog behind you, snout held high,
to snare every whiff of church lady
Tribulation-'n-Rapture perfume,
wags his tail hard against the wall.

          * * *

The neighbor's twelve-year-old twins
wait to ask permission
to sit your north pasture
before dawn tomorrow....
shoot-to-kill one of your coyotes.
One has a brand new,
bought-online cheap,
just-delivered, .22 rifle.
The other boy has a predator whistle.
The missionary ladies keep looking back
at the boys... as if the kids are going to
siphon gas from their Taurus wagon
filled with Jesus pamphlets...
or as if the boys mean
some other kind of monkey business.

          * * *

It is night and you can't see heaven.
There is global warming footage on TV
and you are outside in freezing mist
waiting for the Wolfhound to piss.
There is no one and nothing to kneel to.
You are staring upward toward
long forgotten, said-long-ago prayers.














Sunday, January 19, 2014

Likeness



Likeness

Fog... ice-puffs and fake snow.
You are a sage-desert guest,
no in-focus overview
or midnight hot cocoa.
Your rustic-yellow farmhouse,
scrubbed-out bloodstains
from a quarter century ago,
is little more than dream-graphite.
The Wolfhound puppy carries
her own sunlight, steals cheeseburgers,
is not bubbly-for-poetry... not yet, no.
The puppy and you... mosaic figures
a-stumble between fence line
juniper and poplar: the frozen
ground is ghost-ice slick...
with heaven invisible.



Saturday, January 18, 2014

WINTERTIDE III: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook



Wintertide III

poems

Red Shuttleworth



The third in a series of Red Shuttleworth chapbooks, Wintertide III offers four new poems from the death-end of 2013 and from bleak-early 2014:

Nowadays

Premonition

Prelude

Wakefulness


All copies of Wintertide III (and the rest of this chapbook series) are spoken for (subscribed to).  Each of the chapbooks is published in a very limited edition.



 Peaches Shuttleworth
(Six-Plus Months Old... 100-Pounds)

Thursday, January 16, 2014

WINTERTIDE II: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook



Wintertide II

poems

Red Shuttleworth


The second chapbook in a Red Shuttleworth four-chapbook series from Bunchgrass Press, Wintertide II features eight new poems from the death-end of 2013 and from bleak-early 2014:

Ptolemaic

Lamentations

Decortication

Athanasy

Parenthetical

Onceless

Torrent-Gaze

Glare


All copies of Wintertide II (and the rest of this chapbook series) are spoken for (subscribed to).  Each Wintertide chapbook is published in a very limited edition.




Peaches Shuttleworth




Monday, January 13, 2014

WINTERTIDE I: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook



Wintertide I

poems

Red Shuttleworth


The first chapbook in a Red Shuttleworth four-chapbook series from Bunchgrass Press, Wintertide I features four new poems from the death-end of 2013 and from bleak-early 2014:
Tiberian

Anthelion

Lethiferous

Whisht


All copies of Wintertide I (and the rest of this chapbook series) are now spoken for (subscribed to).  Each Wintertide chapbook is published in a very limited edition.



"Give me back the winter roses."

Fred Rose   (Hank Williams)
Faded Love and Winter Roses


Saturday, January 11, 2014

Downpour



Downpour

Well-executed rain falls dark
on the crayon-red car, like memory
of sleeping in a station wagon:
no motel stationery love notes
to mail, heavy traffic white noise,
pistol beneath a jacket-as-pillow,
empty gaze of a waking Wolfhound....
White clouds crown the moon...
transience of ambition.
Your bony-narrow, blue-eyed
face in the rest stop aluminum mirror
belongs to a toppled Doc Holliday statue.


Friday, January 10, 2014

THAT THE WAY IT GOES?: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook


That the Way It Goes?

a poem

Red Shuttleworth


That the Way It Goes? is a one-poem Red Shuttleworth chapbook published by Bunchgrass Press in a small edition.


The difficult and imperious madwoman kept asking
Andy Warhol if he had seen her favorite dermatologist.
Warhol later told David Bourdon, "Anna is an envelope!"
In profile, in candlelight, the woman had a faint
resemblance to Garbo.  "Mail her, mail her, mail her!"


To no point whatsoever as per this chapbook, here's an old photo of Red Shuttleworth:


Red Shuttleworth
Winside, Nebraska: September, 1986

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Seventh-Night



Seventh-Night

Matchbox collectors, over-read
passages from Nabokov's translation of Lermontov,
small rotational objects near Saturn: driving on ice today
you come upon men gently pulling a corpse
from a rolled and burned-out station wagon.
Another road death: your rear view mirror image.

Memory: a High Plains cul-de-sac girl named Insomnious
down on her luck... tending bar in an Elko brothel.
You follow glow-pink road flares into one lane,
listen to thin ice crack beneath your car wheels,
catch a whiff of some farmer burning tumbleweeds.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

MYTH: A Chapbook Anthology


Myth

a chapbook poetry anthology featuring

Tom Clark
Barbara Brinson Curiel
Gary Gildner
Ciara Shuttleworth
Red Shuttleworth



Tom Clark

Barbara Brinson Curiel

Gary Gildner

Ciara Shuttleworth

Red Shuttleworth


Myth was published by Bunchgrass Press in a limited edition. 



Ciara Shuttleworth, Gary Gildner, and Maura Shuttleworth
(Fairbury, Nebraska, 1981)




Friday, January 3, 2014

Without City

Red Shuttleworth




Without City

Davy Crockett in deep-debt,

the fiction of Bat Masterson,
Wyatt Earp circulating himself
to the saloon gals of Tonopah,
the wry ol' Dust Bowl in pictures,
hair dye for Andy Jackson's middle age.
Jackson Pollock growing in Wyoming...
letters sent to an imaginary pet buffalo.
It all depends on one's quarrels...
the ones not shed at adolescence:
a freckled arthritic hand caresses
a Mescalero bow... a revolver.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Neither Light of the Sun



Neither Light of the Sun

Battered sugar-white
door to the pump house
as we midnight-spot
reflection: dog and man
upon snow, wordless
for an ocean-sky
of torn ebony scarves.
And in the miles
upon ether-exploded
sick room miles,
we curse pain-worry.
Dog and man upon snow,
we curse with laughter
winter-brown thistle...
as if it is an angel.


Wednesday, January 1, 2014

COYOTE-GNAWED US 95 NEVADA: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook


Coyote-Gnawed
US 95 Nevada

poems

Red Shuttleworth



Red Shuttleworth's Coyote-Gnawed US 95 Nevada, a limited edition chapbook from Bunchgrass Press, includes the following poems:

Spirit Gravity

Tonopah Mess

September Motel

Lamentations

Without Pieties


Red Shuttleworth
Nevada-Utah Border, Summer 1997