Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Sand Hill Prose

One by one, lunches collect in the trunk,

Check: water, sunscreen, and jacket.

Parents hastily sign off the place and the time,

But press gratitude and envy into goodbyes.

Awake and fresh eyes in the snap of the air

“Look what I brought! When will we get there?”

Unsolicited, my back seat is filled

With stories, and newscasts, out

The window on the world.

“That’s a cool car.”

“Have you heard the one about….?”

“I can show you KVEC.”

“I like those houses looking out at the sea.”

Highway gives way to campground,

Campground gives way to trail.

Pavement disappears into sandy ramp,

Vehicle-packed beach yields to soft dunes.

In a heartbeat, they peak the summit,

Board in hand, and wax on board.

With his first attempt the expert slips,

Careening and rolling to a sandy landing.

First novice, seated, sleds safely forward

Only to nose-dive through his cresting wave

In a high-speed shower of eye burning, mouth grinding, dirt.

“Don’t be a pessimisium, you won’t hurt yourself!”

“Someone please rinse my eyeballs, I can’t see a thing.”

“I did the splits, and have sand where the sun never shines.”

“Why is my unbuttoned pocket the only one without sand in it?”

The most difficult initiate becomes the most enduring rider,

Unable to return home without just one more (masterful) turn,

Smoothly shifting his seat, leaning back, feet ahead,

Board-tip rising, accelerating down without a wake.

The reward, along with a shoe-full of sand:

“My tongue is going to show this ice cream no mercy!

But next time, can we make it longer?”

…And nostril-cleaning all the way home.


  1. haha. sounds like a fun adventure...nicely done.

  2. Human and funny (I guess that's what human is).

  3. excellent poem,
    the images in your words are very lively and rich!

  4. Best advice: Don't rush the feature...find out how much time they want you to use and don't hesitate to talk about the piece you're going to read and poetry in general. How you started writing it and what poetry versus prose means to a literate society.

    The worst features I have ever seen are them who simply do not try to connect with the audience but instead just read. Take a few minutes to take questions between every other piece, explain the imagery and metaphor.

    I pray for a heckler...that makes it fun for everyone. But then that is me and I generally have a different image behind the microphone than most people.

    I do believe you will do fine Dianne and congratulations, it is an honor to be asked to feature your work.

  5. Thanks Mark. I will miss you.
    Mama Zen, it was fun, to observe and be in the moment.
    Jingle, the images were all real.
    Bill, I have learned to be tickled by the humanity in my life.
    Brian, just wait, you know how boys are!


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