Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
L.A. gets drunk off your spirit and leaves you empty
Two poems by David Garyan
David Garyan has two chapbooks published by Main Street Rag.
xDroughts
- Shasta, your monastery
- was built on the wrong mountains;
- the rain rarely falls at your feet
- and begs to cleanse them.
- The prodigal sun always returns too often,
- quick to imbibe Mother’s empathy.
- Shasta, you were distilled in the wrong state.
- Shasta, you didn’t check the forecast,
- and bought a house in the wrong neighborhood.
- Making it big as a lake
- in California is a career choice
- no counselor recommends.
- Shasta, Russian alcoholics in dry counties
- laugh more often than you.
- Shasta, it’s time to move out of mother’s house
- and find another nipple to suck on.
- Californians are modern Egyptians;
- we worship the sun;
- we erect buildings in the desert;
- we don’t pray to the God that you do.
- Shasta, what is the water population in your drought county?
- L.A. gets drunk off your spirit
- and leaves you empty.
- Shasta, you can blame Mulholland
- and the Aqueduct,
- but you must never stop praying,
- and maybe, one day, the sky
- will hear you once again.
Run
- On the Mission Beach Boardwalk,
- my morning jog always
- ends at the same bench, facing
- the ocean. I sit down;
- my heart pumps
- the carbon dioxide breath
- of civilization through me.
- I watch the procession of waves,
- wondering if it’s possible to cleanse
- my skin with polluted water.
- The oceans are sweating,
- but can’t outrun
- the industrial lungs humanity
- is building.
- I get up and approach the waves,
- but they recede
- faster than I can reach them.
David Garyan received his M.A. and M.F.A. from Cal State Long Beach. He has two chapbooks published by Main Street Rag. When he is not writing poetry, you may usually find him on any one of Southern California’s mountains.
Here's something you might be interested in.
L.A. gets drunk off your spirit and leaves you empty
Two poems by David Garyan
L.A. gets drunk off your spirit and leaves you empty
Two poems by David Garyan
David Garyan has two chapbooks published by Main Street Rag.
xDroughts
- Shasta, your monastery
- was built on the wrong mountains;
- the rain rarely falls at your feet
- and begs to cleanse them.
- The prodigal sun always returns too often,
- quick to imbibe Mother’s empathy.
- Shasta, you were distilled in the wrong state.
- Shasta, you didn’t check the forecast,
- and bought a house in the wrong neighborhood.
- Making it big as a lake
- in California is a career choice
- no counselor recommends.
- Shasta, Russian alcoholics in dry counties
- laugh more often than you.
- Shasta, it’s time to move out of mother’s house
- and find another nipple to suck on.
- Californians are modern Egyptians;
- we worship the sun;
- we erect buildings in the desert;
- we don’t pray to the God that you do.
- Shasta, what is the water population in your drought county?
- L.A. gets drunk off your spirit
- and leaves you empty.
- Shasta, you can blame Mulholland
- and the Aqueduct,
- but you must never stop praying,
- and maybe, one day, the sky
- will hear you once again.
Run
- On the Mission Beach Boardwalk,
- my morning jog always
- ends at the same bench, facing
- the ocean. I sit down;
- my heart pumps
- the carbon dioxide breath
- of civilization through me.
- I watch the procession of waves,
- wondering if it’s possible to cleanse
- my skin with polluted water.
- The oceans are sweating,
- but can’t outrun
- the industrial lungs humanity
- is building.
- I get up and approach the waves,
- but they recede
- faster than I can reach them.
David Garyan received his M.A. and M.F.A. from Cal State Long Beach. He has two chapbooks published by Main Street Rag. When he is not writing poetry, you may usually find him on any one of Southern California’s mountains.
Comments