Michael C Ford has been publishing steadily since 1970, and credited with over 28 volumes of print documents. He’s been featured on 77 spoken word tracks that include 4 solo documents, since 1986. He received a Grammy nomination in 1987 and earned a Pulitzer nomination on the 1st ballot in 1998. His most recent volumes of work are the pamphlet edition of music related poetry [2012] entitled Atonal Riff-Tunes to a Tone-Deaf Borderguard and a 2013 volume entitled Crosswalk Casserole: both of which are published by Lawn Gnome Books. Hen House Studios is in process of marketing his CD project Look Each Other in the Ears [2014]. That document features a stellar band of musicians, not the least of which are surviving members of a 1960s theatre rock quartet you might remember as The Doors. Amalio Madueňo's Ranchos Press in New Mexico is responsible for the marketing of a chapbook-length poem entitled the driftwood crucifix [2015]. His volume of new work Women Under the Influence will be marketed by Word Palace Press.

 

Two Poems from One Southern California Concerto After Another

2nd  Movement

from outside foaming areas of disclosure
remember all the crisp summer dawnings
under awnings of an independent market:
Roy’s Fair-Mart: the intersection of
Foothill & Lincoln

through foaming air (pre-smog) the morning
headlines were always tossed in the form of the
Pasadena Independent towards the porch of an
Altadena pre-war white-frame bungalow: with,
I think, pink trim & often the tabloid missed its
penultimate front porch destination

now, of course, I only have eyes for draped
accessories waving & covering French windows
which somehow, through these foaming years,
never lose their accent: par tout yeux nous
 couper et ecumer*

 *There are eyes everywhere cutting through the foamy wavesCharles Baudelaire

III

what these foothills left us got
lost in the dark. now time goes
around a corner without
signaling for a right turn. we
get into some wonderful ruts
and oh by the way watercolor
days subside in arrangements
of momentary shrubbery. as we
might imagine all polished walls
of  Angeles Crest Hwy guard rails
notwithstanding admit birds of
incredible transgression  and
inhale natural nature along
with fearful rudiments of new air

without decency. we encountered,
once, an imitation of fog and
wondered what the daylight ether
would demand or will. if  we had
learned to invent vineyards, the
loss of oranges wouldn’t have been
able to surround us. an autumn car
jolts by and its cruel fuel yells in our
eyes.  one time we thought various
industries might mean those we
feared would feel a bit more tender
towards us.  not anymore!  any
remnant of the light that prevails
upon dark Mt. Wilson signals is

impossible now. KTLA no longer
shines in bright eyes of artistry: no
longer speaks into ears of similar
enlightenment: and, as if a conspiracy
of ignorance attacks it, the warm heart
of  memory breaks.

Yuba River / South Fork

First of all, there’s this wind: acrid beast
devouring small animals of clouds. The
river’s charge is like Switzerland
exploding. Speak to me out of Auburn
snowstorm silence. you wanted, once,
to hold Kenneth Patchen’s book: Cloth
Of The Tempest, under the icy ridges
so your hands could remember baseball
and other country games; yet, now, your
voice is quiet, as this cement-mixer mist,
in winter, is, sometimes. Look what’s
grinding off a gall of mauling slush. It is,
perhaps, in some way, a very different sort 
of underworld mood swing spitting and  
swearing at a God nobody prays to.


Donner Pass: 1976

 

Michael C. Ford

 

 

2015 copyright by Michael C. Ford


 

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