"Devotions for Debtors"

A hushed shore, dear delicate ache of morning;
horizons tug your eyes, void-sciolists;
the cold becalms, even as you struggle
up the sandy slope, if buses are running.
Words stashed then, like dinosaur eggs, brain-fists,
hatch now, years on; the blank sky's sculling squiggle
gained. It is no season born of mists,
and laden your plate and balanced your agenda,
yet somehow you'd meander. Never to know
again the rungry freedom of the zonda
in lost, sonorous labyrinths. This one, though.
presents impossible resolutions, perturbs
steadily, as the ghouls of Sumer goggle.


New Charles Spear--! "Apparently after being silent for 30 years he wrote a handful of new poems just before he died and his daughter has given me these for the book." (Just after i procured a copy of the original edition from New Zealand...for a much better price.)


"Q: Speaking of bucking the traditional Don Knotts image, is it true you were the idol of a commune of hippies around the time of The Love God? DK: That’s true, I ran into a guy in Hawaii- on Waikiki. He was a hippie and invited me to his "pad." When I got there, I found all these guys hanging out passing around marijuana. (laughs) However, I only spent one day with them- I never moved in."