Loki Is Buried at Smoky Creek: Selected Poems

by Fred Wah

This volume includes work selected from each of Fred Wah’s earlier books of Lardeau , Mountain , among , Tree and Pictograms from the Interior of B.C. ; in addition to unpublished work and work from the manuscript edition of Breathin’ My Name with a Sigh .

159 pages, Paperback

First published February 15, 1980

About the author

Fred Wah has been involved with a number of literary magazines over the years, such as Open Letter and West Coast Line. Recent books are the biofiction Diamond Grill (1996), Faking It: Poetics and Hybridity (2000), a collection of essays, and Sentenced to Light (2008), a collection of poetic image/text projects. He splits his time between the Kootenays in southeastern B.C. and Vancouver.

Reviews

[mwpm]

Loki Is Buried at Smoky Creek brings together a selection of Fred Wah's poems from eight previous collections, including: Mountain, Lardeau, TISH No. 1-19, Among, Earth, Pictograms from the Interior of B.C., and Breathin' My Name with a Sigh .

In addition, this selection contains a number of previously unpublished poems...

From Mountain...

fucking brown the fall airs O
the end of August rains turn snow
the dirt is hard around the rocks the leaves are warm
around those rocks the snow is warm the dirt is
O so Co-old

- pg. 26

From Lardeau...

She says that I cling to the past
trees, places, people and things
but my cheeks are cold
in the walk around the block
tonight

we are both here together
now what more is present
than a memory
my cheeks get warmer
and the darkness is out there

my love there is no compromise
if you will not wait
while I drag my ass
in the past.

- The October Argument, pg. 33

From TISH No. 1-19...

the green grass grows dark
under the foot's rhythm
& kept time
& comes to be gone in the end
forgotten
what clouds
fall into the red west
waiting
for a moment
thus
the final suck
and all time lose
at the edge
falling

*

an ounce of energy
just remembered
forgotten
from others
at least that much
meant more
than the night (itself)
and
to be taken
took it
(the ounce
for me

- Isabella: 2 thoughts, pg. 42

From Among...

And we just stood there
in the Forest
look
at everything around us
looking
surrounding

- Forest, pg. 51

From Tree...

I don't want any of this tree poetry
shit from you. You don't know what a
fucking tree is. If ya think its only
in yer head yer full of shit. Trees is
trees and the only thing they're good
for it lumber so don't give me any crap
about them being sumpin else. Fer chrys
sake you think the rest of us don't
know sweet fuck all compared to you.
Well you don't know nuthin till ya go
otu there and bust yer back on em.
Settin chockers'd break yer ass so fast
ya wouldn't even wanna look at a
goddamned tree let aloen write about
em. Then ya'd know what a tree wuz,
steda yappin about it.

- Don't Cut Me Down, pg. 58

From Earth...

wait for
the sky to come up
on the peaks' horizon
aphorous line
cloud
the blue
stars
night
a spinning
earth
day
glacier
morning star

- pg. 87

From Pictograms from the Interior of B.C....

How does the jazz go?
Autumn moon a bit drunk
in the tree-tops with Wind
(north) & Pacific cloud banks
about 1959 not quite
jamming it but from here
to the coast one big
triple high C and wetter
than a duck's ass just
a sliver of a harvest moon.

- pg. 93

From Breathin' My Name with a Sigh ...

I lie here and wait for life again

no one told me this happens

not death but a consequence of it

the physical isn't a world
at least it wasn't

when I ran up the road this morning
out of breath

yet that is what I most desire

It's only information

I mean what leads up to death is.

- pg. 99

From Unpublished...

He pointed at the water
he looked that way
towards the creek
then went there
through the trees and field in the night

aligned body fallen

flowed down mouth

the way the creek does

did

- Loki Is Buried at Smoky Creek, pg. 117