tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407624264627208128.post129107279782085835..comments2024-01-26T21:38:25.924-08:00Comments on Duane's PoeTree: Bart Solarczyk writesDuanesPoeTreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17053093400086634552noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407624264627208128.post-60333203624824009172019-06-10T09:23:44.108-07:002019-06-10T09:23:44.108-07:00Thanks DonThanks DonBarthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11437565950372872490noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407624264627208128.post-69081615138095080422019-06-10T03:44:20.149-07:002019-06-10T03:44:20.149-07:00Two of our best local poets in a town full of them...Two of our best local poets in a town full of them. Bart, Scott and Pittsburgh.Don Wentworthhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10731340119717821887noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3407624264627208128.post-49293858607909711382019-06-09T13:32:41.850-07:002019-06-09T13:32:41.850-07:00Like Bart, Scott is a poet in Pittsburgh, Pennsylv...Like Bart, Scott is a poet in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Dave Newman said his poems "read like someone dropped Frank O'Hara into one of Pittsburgh's great dive bars and told him to sing like a jukebox playing folk songs and punk rock." For instance: <br /><br />What a Sad Christmas<br /><br />Christopher’s Bar is all full up and Liquor World is closed already.<br />So I wander down the avenue looking for someplace to take me in,<br />clutching a Brautigan in my coat in case I need some conversation.<br /><br />I used to keep a plastic cooler in the back of my beat-up old Volvo.<br />Sometimes I’d put a case of beer on ice in there, sometimes a sixer<br />and a nice bottle of bourbon. I like my bourbon with one lone rock.<br /> <br />But I don’t have the Volvo anymore. Traded it for a book of poems<br />and watched it ride off down the highway to the city of lost angels.<br />I know it’s just “the city of angels”, but that’s not how I think of it.<br /><br />What does it matter? It doesn’t. I do get down like this sometimes.<br />Only to remind myself how good I have it. I have my failing health.<br />I have a little bit of money. I have the love of a woman on occasion.<br /><br />One night in Kalamazoo, I was just cruising and I stopped to knock<br />on the door of a girl I knew through a writing class at the university.<br />She used to write these fun stories about doing drugs at dance clubs.<br /><br />When she opened her door, I said, “Let’s go drinking and driving!”<br />She laughed and said alright. We wound up at this Valentine diner<br />up on M-140, just outside of South Haven, called Ma’s Coffee Pot.<br /><br />We didn’t even end up doing any drinking. Just had coffee and pie<br />and talked a while. She was a good talker and she had a nice laugh.<br />She made me feel less lonely. Even on the dark and quiet ride home.DuanesPoeTreehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17053093400086634552noreply@blogger.com