something about it

[the mingo]

i like the slim volumes
of poetry & writing that i find
in thrift stores or bargain bins
or garage sales by people i've never heard about
or know - from greece or palestine
albania, mongolia,
horse chants from the plains indians
songs of mexico
or some godforsaken soul from philadelphia
or tuba city arizona
it's not the bukowskis or the brautigans
the eliots or dickinson's or parkers
but the men & women who through
some great fluke got themselves published
by some now defunct printer -
those who found themselves in high country
staring at crows in the rain
and wrote something about it

[judih]

a small volume
poetry by the mingo
amongst inner tubes

[theirishsea]

I like this. I think most of us are those unheralded people who somehow get a limited edition of poems published.

those who found themselves in high country
staring at crows in the rain
and wrote something about it

sidenote: thanks for mentioning tuba city AZ. Never heard of it but looked it up on the internet. Interesting.

[saw]

me too mingo !...love those finds at the book fair, used and well worn is even better, like books left on park benches for someone to find...sometimes you run into a treasure, and often you just shake your head and smile.....i relate to all those that try to express something in their own unique way....well, i'm off to the thrift store...

[the mingo]

Thx folks to all your responses -

saw, i hear that - found a book in a thrift store once that fell off the shelf as i was pulling out the book next to it - i picked it up & turned it over - it was a selection of poems in paperback, title of "the bones" selected poems - yannis kondos - a greek poet - i opened it up, the poem on the intro page was this :

as you unlock
the sun from the cellar
it rushes out
to eat the bones

... floored me, literally, i sat down on the floor right there & read the whole book - many of the poems were short but a feast and a half - i bought the book for 50 cents and took it home - that was thirty years ago & its been with me ever since - i know the poems within its covers by heart and it still never fails to satisfy me - if i could handle language at the level this guy does i could leave this world right now and be content - whenever i am overly pleased with something i have written i open mr. kondos' book to any page and read the poem that is on it, say this one :

In the blanket I try
to hold onto your life.
For awhile the warm
color lingers.

Then the distance becomes an axe.
Footprints in the snow.
You accompany the wolves

...as you can see i always find i have a long way to go - - ya know, when i walked into that thrift store all those years ago it was to kill a little time and do a little scavenging, wasn't looking for anything in particular & it found me

[saw]

cool story mingo, thanx for sharing it....i too have experienced that phenomenon....when things just drop into your lap....

[WIREMAN]

kismet