Tim Kahl
Book Release for The String of Islands
Monday, Jan. 11 at 7:30 PM
SPC at 1719 25th Street
Host: Emmanuel Sigauke
Tim Kahl [http://www.timkahl.com] is the author of Possessing Yourself (CW Books, 2009), The Century of Travel (CW Books, 2012) and The String of Islands (Dink, 2015). His work has been published in Prairie Schooner, Drunken Boat, Mad Hatters’ Review, Indiana Review, Metazen, Ninth Letter, Sein und Werden, Notre Dame Review, The Really System, Konundrum Engine Literary Magazine, The Journal, The Volta, Parthenon West Review, Caliban and many other journals in the U.S. He appears as Victor Schnickelfritz at the poetry and poetics blog The Great American Pinup and the poetry video blog Linebreak Studios. He is also co-editor of Clade Song. He is the vice president and events coordinator of The Sacramento Poetry Center. He also has a public installation in Sacramento {In Scarcity We Bare The Teeth} He currently teaches at California State University, Sacramento and houses his father’s literary estate—one volume: Robert Gerstmann’s book of photos of Chile, 1932.
The Rod of Correction
Though the finger points the way, it is the hand that holds
the rod of correction. It is the hand that takes the side of God
in the games; the cards are collected from the copper mines
so that in town they might depict a fool. And they are dealt
to the curious who can be scolded and advised and kissed
and taught to read and sung to sleep (schlaf gut, schlaf gut,
mein kleiner Mann) — however, endurance of the cold is
also very good sport full of unchaste touches and fellowship
with the herd. For instance, Bones and Banjo poached
the antelope whose dried white horn made a powder
efficacious in the treatment of dazzle. But we did not like
its salty taste. We did not like the sober and grave
dancing of men with men. We played button-button-who’s-
got-the-button to win pawns for redemption. Until we
restored the path. Then what was right was loosed from
the rucksack of holidays and set free in the spirit of
the great spearmint. The rod of correction soaked itself in
a bottle of cider, waiting for one of the boys who
accidentally husked a red ear and saved it. This entitled
a kiss from somebody he still has not found. At night he plays
hide and seek with her, nearer and nearer, when he hears
the voice of God: You burn. You burn. Now you burn more.
first appeared in Caliban
Hear a brief discussion of the book here with Lesley McClurg on Insight [http://www.capradio.org/news/insight/2016/01/07/insight-010716c/]
