The OrphanAGE, Vol. 1.15

– 5 min read
A barbed wire fence with a sign reading "End of Public Use Area" stands in front of a field and dense, sunlit trees under a clear blue sky.
Photo by w.e. leathem

First Lines

I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. —Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome

Three tornados last night. Tempestuous here on the ground even as maelstroms literally and figuratively lay siege to so much of the world at large. At least we have art.

Rarely do I happen across a poetic voice so clearly of its setting. "Just a Moment, Please..." may be an inaugural publication, but Plate evokes the engagement and introspection of Mary Oliver or Annie Dillard. Keelon Van drops by one of Danny Mac's Bell Tower sessions, and the OrphanAGE welcomes back Jay Mandeville (first print issue) with new celebrity collages.

Peace,
Dante

In This Issue

  • Three poems by Becky Plate
  • Some musical Bell Tower throw down by Keelon Vann
  • Collage by Jay Mandeville

Three by Becky Plate

Black Silk Fedora

There is a beautiful, middle aged black man
standing alone on the corner,
waiting for a bus in a tuxedo
and a black silk fedora.
He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket
and pulls out a brown leather wallet,
examines its contents briefly,
and opts to relocate it to his pants pocket.
He is tall and slender
and looks more comfortable waiting for bus in a tuxedo
than I have ever been in my very skin.

His face and hands are long and weathered,
but in a good way,
like a patina.
his shirt I matte black and he is not wearing a tie.
It is cold out,
but he doesn’t look bothered by it,
despite the absence of an overcoat.

He stands with one eg a bit in front of the other,
a knee slightly bent,
making the sunlight and shadow fall nicely on his frame,
nicely on the tuxedo.
His left hand goes into his hip pocket and rests there,
rumpling up the side of his jacket a bit.
Somehow, this casual, carefree posture improves
the effect of the formal suit,
and he is a statue.

Only the fog of his breath against the cold, dry atmosphere
and occasional shift of weight give him away.

The light is green. The moment is gone.

Unopened Mail

The bulbs are bright
in the tight space allowed
by the bathroom walls,
and it makes her flesh
appear more pale than usual,
every shallow violet vein
peeking through the translucent veil.

She dabs a bit more makeup beneath her eyes
And takes off her socks.
The tile is cold on bare soles.
She takes a last deep drag from a Pall Mall
And glides through the door.
He has opened the shade,
and the canary yellow walls reflect
more light than is strictly necessary.

He fidgets in the corner
as she walks across the room.
Peeling a white cotton robe
from her upright frame
discloses pink railroad tracks.
They remind him of lips.
She shoots a look over a shoulder
and asks in a placid tone,
“Where do you wanna do this?”

A nervous giggle escapes his throat.
She shifts from one foot to the other,
a slender hand curved around the shelf of a hip,
standing between two four-poster beds,
sizing them up for firmness.
Her mind wanders to a checkbook
a pile of unopened mail.

He asks what he is allowed.

More Please

Excuse me…
Could I get some more please?
More of this,
more sunny and 75 degrees.

More micro-slam,
more throw-down anymore up the stairs
More too much wine
and more not enough chairs.

More duets
and dirty old men.
More “good to meet you”
and “man, it’s great to see you again!!”

More lime trees
and unstable displays.
More for the ones who didn’t make it
and more for the ones who’ve gone away.

More girl Power.
More too much hair or not enough.
More rhymes, more stories.
More talking’ dirty, more talkin’ tough.

More rappers.
More 39th and Bell.
More about love and hate
and more about the lies that people tell.

More hardwood.
More fedoras and dressed all in black.
More dreadlocks and more blue jeans.
More piles of paperback.

More old friends.
More turns of phrase and cleaver hooks.
More locals and out-of-towners.
More of the guys at Prosperos Books.

— Becky’s new collection of poems Just a Moment, Please… is available at Prospero’s Books or from Spartan Press.

Keelon Van, Live From Prospero's Bell Tower

Guitar, Vocals - Keelon Vann
Bass - Riley Voth
Drums - Jansen Wooton
Sound - Josh Luke
Director, Producer, Camera 1 - Danny Mac
Camera 2 - Clotilda Demauro

Jay Mandeville

Stylized image with Leonard Cohen's face at the center, surrounded by vibrant rays. Text overlay includes "poet," "singer," and birth date: September 21, 1934.
A black-and-white image features Groucho Marx and a woman in a cozy pose. The text highlights Groucho Marx's wit, labeling him an actor, comedian, and writer. Quotes emphasize his humor and perspective on life. The tone is humorous and reflective.
Portrait of Leo Tolstoy with a long beard sitting on a chair. Text around him highlights his literary works and influence on social justice. The background is blurred, emphasizing a reflective tone.

Text content 1:
It is you, my love, you who are the stranger...,
poet, songwriter, singer, novelist
born September 21, 1934

Text content 2:
Blessed are the cracked, for they shall let in the light.
A Postmellenial Eye On Groucho
actor, comedian, writer, bon vivant & master craftsman of the theater of the absurd
Quote me as saying I was misquoted
Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly, & applying the wrong rememdies
He may look like an idiot & talk like an idiot but don't let that fool you. He really is an idiot.
Life is a whim of several billion cells to be you for awhile...
I've had a wonderful time, but this wasn't it.
Why should I care about posterity? What's posterity ever done for me?
Dick Cavett on Groucho Marx: I swear that if he never existed, we would sense a lack in the world of comedy, like that planet in the solar system that astronomers say out to be there.
born Julius Henry Marx
Oct 2 1890 New York City
I have nothing but respect for you—and not much of that...

Text content 3:
Count 'Leo' Tolstoy
born September 9 1828
Fiction masterpieces like War & Peace (1859) & Anna Karenina: (1877) were succeeded later in life by essays reflecting a newly- synthesized personal philosophy he began to develop after undergoing a spontaneous, gnostic religious experience. He now adopted an inward-looking & austere path centered on The Sermon On the Mount, & a strict, ethics based lifestyle. His anti-war stance & the insightful formulation of the notion of non Violent resistance echoed far into the 20th century, when Gandhi & Martin Luther King, Jr., fully aware of Tolstoy's precedent, changed history with their campaigns for social justice.