Two poems published by The Potomac

Two Poems

James Kwapisz

F(reedom) 459

The first sunny day
of Spring,
and here I am
at the DMV,
staring into space:
the back of
an old man’s neck;
liver spots, warts.

“Now serving:
at counter four.”

Call my number soon,
cut me loose
from the tangles
of this old man’s
strange neck hair,
growing in tufts
where no tuft
has grown before.

What imperialistic

“Now serving…”

I feel some
sepia-toned nostalgia;
memories of forefathers’
progress and rage
(their rational rage)
that has made us all
slaves, natives,
tangled in this
man’s neck hair.

But then,
she beckons me:

“Now serving:

Her methodical music,
her promise, makes
you cherish
your waiting
—our waiting—
our despair,
because soon,
there’ll be fresh air,
light, and soon,

Here we are, we
are at the DMV.

Turkey Vultures

All huddled about the skull
and spine of a squirrel,
gently piecing each rib
to each knob—
their beaks like tweezers,
the masked craftsmen finish
the frame of the ship,
easing their way through
the mouth, feeding her meat
as if she were their chick
and tucking her in
with a nice warm pelt.

When the mast is hoisted
they nudge their fledgling
on to set sail,
hissing goodbyes
as they prepare for their retreat,
for summer is coming
and the sun is setting in the east.

Review of “Gramps of Wrath” by Divide and Conquer

By Jay Freeman

The indie / punk thrash / rock trio known as Grampfather has a brand of raw, energetic and sophisticated flavor and their new album Gramps of Wrath (yes, it’s a play on words from Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath), very much sounds like it was recorded live and raw. But don’t let that deter you from listening; I think this band has that refreshing sound that’s sometimes lacking in the otherwise perfectly packaged, slicked-up music these days. And the fact that they did not one, but three instrumentals and have a mix of old and new sounds sets them apart from other bands of this kind, in my opinion.

​The opener “Preface” has that rawness of early ‘80s punk bands of a different kind. Pylon from Athens, Georgia comes to mind. There’s also a ‘60s flavored keyboard and actually, if you listen closely, the British band The Animals are in there somewhere, but with a punk flavor. “Fernluv” reminds me of young love, memories that are just memories and again, a very live sound that was well executed in the studio. “Gnardogs” has wild, grating back and forth guitar that reminded me of Lou Reed’s style when he fronted The Velvet Underground. It’s also the band’s second instrumental.

What I liked best about this band is that they carry on the legacy of punkish themes and shenanigans: tongue in cheek lyrics that you simply must read – because there’s a lot of them and they’re funny – like on “Jimmy Buffet (the Vampire Slayer),” criticism of the hippie free love movement, (“Free Love”) and brilliant, second person storylines that retell awkward days of being 15 (“Freedom Clause”). On “Godsludge” I thought it was a very good ode to that “Halloween Horror / Monster Mash” sound that The Cramps were known for, not to mention a free verse poetry explosion of words that was highly entertaining!

The last number is Grampfather’s third instrumental, amusingly titled “(An Ode to) Otis Shredding.” I was expecting some clever lyrics that tied in with the legendary soul singer but what I got was a hauntingly beautiful beginning, and then boom! – a fast rocker that might make you want to get up and dance.

If you’re a lyrics person then you might want to click the lyrics link next to each song listed on the band’s Bandcamp site. At times it was hard to hear what was being said. But if you just like that raw, live sound that punk/thrash bands are known for then I’m sure you’ll enjoy Grampfather.

Interview with online literary zine I Want You To See This Before I Leave—james-k

Why do you write? What purpose does writing serve for you currently?

I write because I have to.  It sounds corny and dramatic, but the inner turmoil that just accrues and accrues when I don’t write drives me insane.  If I’m not writing, I feel useless.  I have friends who do charity work, have gone to other countries to help those in destitution, all of that—but me, I’m not that kind of guy.  I feel more present in the inner world than in the physical.  My purpose in writing is to serve the spiritually destitute.  I think I have a keen eye for the subtle nuances of human communication, and by illumining those to my readers I hope to provide them with hope.  It’s all about communication—without it, life would hardly be worth living. A lot of people are depressed because of a lack thereof, and if my writing provides them with some solace then that’s purpose enough for me.  I never feel alone with a good book in my hands.

How do you usually start a poem, story, etc?

I think of a poem as a marriage between idea/ideal/concept (whatever) and image. Being a poet is kind of like being a sorcerer, conjuring spells out of the ether, making the abstract concrete.  The musical quality of poetry I find to be quite entrancing.  Lately I’ve been writing more prose than poetry, but I’ve been trying to make my prose more lyrical so that I don’t lose that musical element, those lilts and bends.  When I first began writing I started with poetry, and then had a phase of exclusively writing stories, and then exclusively poetry, and so on.  But after a while I bounced back and forth so much that a distinct style came about in me that works in both genres.  My poetry professor Pauline Uchmanowicz, when I told her of my pattern of progression, related to me an analogy of Ben Franklin’s (which I will butcher), that good writing is kind of like a mixed drink, poetry being the liquor and prose the chaser (or vice versa), and the end product is certainly more enjoyable than if you were to drink either alone.  Ah, but back to the question.  When I write a story I usually have two or more conflicting ideas or character types which I put in the ring together and let them duke it out.  There is never a clear winner—that would be a boring story—but the story is the fight itself.  The idea is not to be didactic but to be acute in your observations of human nature.

How do you know when a piece is finished?

You just know.  This is not really a helpful piece of advice unless you’ve experienced it yourself.  There is this moment, after reading and re-reading a piece a million times, when you know that what you have created is crystallized (at least according to your own perception) and that there is nothing more to be added or omitted without compromising the integrity of the composition.

What writers/artists are influencing you right now?

Cormac McCarthy, Flannery O’Connor, and John Steinbeck.  They are my favorite writers of all time.  The general literary mouth will tell you, “Read broadly! Read broadly!” And I have, and I think it’s important to read broadly to discover styles you wish to amalgamate and emulate, but perhaps what is more important is to learn what not to do.  What makes for bad writing.   There is a lot of it out there and it should be a writer’s priority to ensure that he/she does not add to the clutter but is a proponent of substance.

What do you want people to know about your work?

That I care.  I feel like I might give off this vibe in person that I don’t give a shit, that I’m apathetic.  But if there’s anything I put all my effort and mental/spiritual/whatever reserves into, it’s this. Writing.  And if any potential reader has the attention span for it, I guarantee he/she will not feel like he/she has wasted his/her time.

What question do you wish I asked you?

“Do you like writing?” No, I think it is one of the more difficult and torturous things a human being can do to him/herself.  But if you feel as if you have been called to be a writer, it’s not something you can just walk away from.  The feeling after having written something is amazing, transcendental—a reward for your days, weeks, months of struggle—though in short, writing is not something you necessarily enjoy but endure.