GHOST TOWN POETRY OPEN MIC
Hosted by Christopher Luna and Toni Lumbrazo Luna
Thursday, February 11
1015 Main Street
Vancouver, WA 98660
Food and libation provided by
Niche Wine Bar, 1013 Main Street
LGBTQ-FRIENDLY, ALL AGES, AND UNCENSORED SINCE 2004
Featuring Steve Williams
Steve Williams is the author of a new chapbook entitled Thirteen, a poem. He works in Portland, helping those who have barriers to employment find jobs. He lives with a lovely woman who writes and edits much better than he but refuses to admit it.
by Steve Williams
One grandfather’s shadow is fresh tar
on the roof outside my window.
The other grandfather’s shadow –
a wind-up Indian with broken hands.
My grandmothers are whiskey radio baseball
and a garden full of curio cabinets and canning jars.
Corky, Blackie and Sam are dog shadows
warm under my blanket. My cat shadows
all ran away.
My father’s shadow is the Wichita Lineman
belted to every creosoted pole, spurs buried
in the wood listening to his own static.
My streetlight shadows are Spirographed
around my shoes, each a different shade
of black. These are my mother.
As the sun falls into drowned ash,
these shades fade into twilight.
This is where we all used to hide.
When my face rises in your bright hands,
I hold your kiss
long enough for each of them
to have their turn.