Gary Alony

Yusef Komunyakaa is a member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers
In 1994 he received a Pulitzer Prize for Poetry for Neon Vernacular.
He is also a recipient of the Kingsley Tuffs Poetry Award and the Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize.
The tone of Yusef Komunyakaa’s poetry reflects his Southern Louisiana childhood years. The subjects of his poems take on an autobiographical experiences regarding race, the Vietnam War, jazz, blues and life.
Yusef Komunyakaa currently teaches at New York University in Greenwich Village.

A couple of months ago a friend laid a cd on me, Tasty Kings – Old Lookhart Highway.
The first song, Back to El Paso, starts with a petal steel twang and reverb sound with echoes of driving through the South West and reminiscing a truck driving vibe that I remember being part of the tamed wild west image of the early 70’s. Now not that I traveled far west before but I’ve listen to enough big room roadhouse music and driven through the Southern states to know the difference between Merle Haggard and Jimmie Buffet on hot night waiting around for closing time, napping on the dashboard of a Winnebago till sunrise then driving over to the beach where I could sit think about the days back home. Now even though home is New York City I’ve got plenty of imagination and with this cd and a warm breeze Lockhart Highway may just as well be the Southern State Parkway or Ocean Beach Drive, Whatever it may be this bring s a good ole feeling into my soul and I just can’t help smiling through these songs. Having a kickass band, Charlie Sexton on electric, Andrew Morse writing and breathing life into every acoustic note. Ah-ha, I will tell you this you’ve got to drive through this cd slowly and breath in the fresh air that blows through each well played interval. It’s a true work of art. Play through; it’s “true like ice, like fire” and well written enough to allow the Dylan reference.

Pier A the battery NYC

Oh no! I jumped; thinking a giant Norwegian Warth Rat was by right side. I took comfort from my shadow, a signal to call it a night.

There was soothing breeze of cooler air flowing of the Hudson’s gleaming darkness; the river keeps flowing along from higher ground where the weather may have been cooler and the air fresher then the chaos enclosed on this mad island.

The night comes quickly and the days go fast this time of year

I suddenly jump up as I was thumb

typing by the majestic dark Hudson River

*** *** *** ***

Patience

All of life it starts at once

The screaming struggle for what we want

The learning of what we need