Issue 3:1 | Featured Artist | Jon Hounshell
Some of these hills
Werenít made for habitation
But the clapboard castles rose,
Perched upon the sun-starved slopes
And deep ravines.
And the Marlboro Man.
Somewhere between the rocks
Man made the meek plantations
And the cash crop leaflets grew
Like the olive shoots
Around his table.
The harbor-bound handsome one
And the constant joy of his mandolin,
But the fledgling branch,
Vive Le Roi,
Weaned while the world
Went down into shadows
Would sire the dream
Iíd dig up from the sand
Where once my uncle posed, stooped
And Iíll plant it again
Where my grandfather dug in his heels.
for my grandfather, April 6, 2002