August 23-29, 2010: Steve De France and Dusan Colovic

Steve De France


Bio (auto)

Steve De France MFA has traveled widely in the United States On more than one occasion he hitch-hiked across America He rode rails on freight trains, worked as a laborer with pick up gangs in Arizona, dug swimming pools in Texas, did 33 days in the Pecos city jail as a vagrant, fought bulls in Mexico, and dove for salvage off a small island on the coast of Mazatlan His poetry has been published in most of the English speaking countries of the world Recently his work can be seen in The Evergreen Review, The Wallace Stevens Journal, The Sun, Rattle, Why Vandalism, as well as others He has won writing awards in England and in the United States And recently was nominated for the 2009 Pushcart Prize He continues to write poetry, plays, essays & short stories.

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by Steve De France and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

A Few PoetsSome call death sweet names,
others invite him in for tea,
many fear his ominous presence,
a few challenge him to duel & they
spit in his eye—a hand-full think to outsmart him These—I believe, he enjoys torturing Strangely
all poets seem drawn to him Perhaps because he is steeped in
a mysterious legerdemain as only an
emissary of Hades can be. 

This Mexican poet I teach with
is very afraid to talk about death Cancer took his father’s nose,
then his jaw, and then him Professor Michael is spooked
around the death thing Despite his hair having grown longer,
his pants tighter, and his girlfriends younger,
he still avoids all funerals.

If he ever thinks about death
he needs to drink wine,
wine till he can’t remember his name,
or remember how death comes
when you least expect it—finds you,
as your peeing, or dodging cars
on an L.A freeway,
or being a target in a New York City crosswalk,
or collapsed & broken in a Yuma asylum,
or hiding in fear in a lonely Alabama room.

But not at a garden party,
not staring stealthily at you,
not sipping his Non Fat Soy Latte,
not as an incipient smile twitches
along the corners of his serpentine lips.


He was always drunk
& she should have left him years ago Anyway, what a slut I heard she
was turning tricks for twenty bucks Anyway, he is such a liar, he should
have been fired years ago Anyway, have you seen the clothes
that tramp pours herself into?
What a disgrace!
Anyway, I heard he has a social disease,
if you know what I mean
Anyway, she has no skills
She worked her way up through
the bedroom, everyone knows that Anyway, why should we
care about their new car?
Anyway, I hear they can’t make the payments Anyway, if they move to West Hollywood they will be in the neighborhood where they belong Anyway, who will miss them?
There are lots of other people on this street Anyway, we know why most of them are living here They’re on the dodge from the INS,
or else the IRS is looking to impound their possessions Anyway, who would live in a town like this?
I mean look around
there are some desperate people loose here Anyway, we should care
This whole country has fallen to complete shit
Anyway, that’s why I don’t vote anymore Anyway, what does it matter?
Nobody cares what happens anymore
Anyway, I was just wondering if you could
lend me 20 bucks?
I’ll pay you back
when my lottery numbers come in
Anyway, things have been
a little tough lately, if you know what I mean.



Dusan Colovic

Bio (auto)

Dusan Colovic was born 1934 in Orasac He has graduated from the Belgrade’s Divinity school “Saint Sava” and lives and works in Belgrade Colovic has published 15 books of poetry: Promise, 1984; There is day, 1985; Tree of lougeval wood, 1986; Ancestor satisfied smile, 1987; Hunger of time, 1989; The first year, the first day, 1994; We must say, 1995; Talking about you, 1997; Language of corn, 2000; Track cleaned light, 2002; In icon of soul, 2005; Orasac road, 2007 The gates of light 2009 and To the Sons of the Celestial Secret, 2010 Colovic is also known for his anthologies of Serbian patriotic poetry He is actively involved in the literary scene of Serbia Critics emphasize his crystallized precision and haiku-like, epigrammatic, condensed expression His play with language often makes it unfair to even attempt translation.

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by Dusan Colovic and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


For a Gentler Song

The Word is left
And the window
A sunrise
In my eyes.

Subscribe to our weekly Newsletter: