SPLAB! Co-Founders Danika Dinsmore & Paul Nelson in SPLAB!
at 14 S. Division, Auburn, WA, before it opened, in December 1996
Dear Danika
it’s not
I am @ SPLAB!
taking out the last
framed picture
Zappa shitting
The place looks
like
it
did when nothing
was
in here
in
that newspaper
picture
except I am
not
praying to your
ghostly
vision
I’m talking
Dear Danika
I’m on green tea
again & it doesn’t
make my butt itch
like a motherfucker
now
no
But I stare @ the AIM
poster & watch a video
of Sam Kinison &
take
books books books
books books
&
look @ all
the
Traffic
don’t jump!
Dear Danika
It’s not
though my watch says
until
I get
a new
battery
& I’ve SKIES
SKIES SKIES
SKIES SKIES SKIES SKIES
SKIES because
of the late
Black
Sparrow
that & Lorca Variations
& one
blue Loba.
Dear Danika
hello
It’s not
still & SPLAB! is dead.
I didn’t know Ted
Berrigan when I met you
& still don’t
because he’s dead
like SPLAB!
except
alive in
your mind
& mine
& night
remains
black & now my watch
won’t even glo in the dark.
Dear Danika
It
is not
or
as my watch says.
It’s after
& streetlight’s streaming
through bare windows
just like in that first
newspaper photo.
Joanne told me to light
incense when I left
SPLAB! & there’s enough
patchouli going to sustain
a
city of hippies.
Danika
It’s
after
& back @
SPLAB!
after
recycling on
bike. You
never
told me poetry doesn’t
pay. I’m
sweeping
one last tack
into a pile of dust
someday may be a
a star again looking
over you & Ken
in
recognize it
because
it has facial hair
Dear Danika
reminiscent
of Frank Zappa.
This poem all into
bits & I’m not even
trying. Must
be
the sleep deprivation
or the marijuana cookie
memory of a marathon
years ago.
Rachael thought
it was a brain tumor
but it was not
a premonition.
Slaughter
has never
been
so quiet.
Dear ddd
I’m
@ SPLAB!
after
of the cold & lonesome
solstice
air through
bare windows
in here must look
like an arson.
It
would not be the first
in this town
where
the going gets tough
except your mind & mine
where one day we may
escape Slaughter.
Danika
The
candle
on the now bare altar
reflects shadows on
the pillar you & Rachael
painted attempted flowers
like us all
as if it were the last
candle &
it is
here after
at the end of Fall
I can almost hear the
planet tilting back
& its odor
definitely patchouli.
Dear D
di Prima is not
calmly
reading Rant
on this
old stage
no one
wants. Nor Michael
Ethelbert Victor (not
your cat) Eileen
Wanda
Ed Jerome Anne
Andrew Joanne
no. Nor are
Beaver Chief
or the ghosts
who once lived here
before I did
& before the crack
in the clouds
announced all this.
dear Danika
I
know your name
is not Dakina
but
sometimes in the dark
I spell it that way not
like Amiri Baraka
spells HEATHEN BLISS
on the poster
over the door
Ron Whitehead
sent
& I can see myself
seemingly
in prayer on
the floor
where a rug later went
on which wax dripped
remember?
dear danika
the
air is so thick
w/ smoke
I
can’t see my
watch but I
left
it home anyway
‘cuz
it says
like
2 minutes late
for an August morning
when the trees are not
bare & memories ain’t
all aiming for my head
@ once and my
pen
too slow.
dear Danika
Intergenerational
Dick
(Wicked Dick) Brugger
& what
was in the
Slaughter Teen
Slam Water &
Anne & Andrew six days
after Allen died
& so
many corpses
piles in
files now
all files
now but no
speakers
no beds no
books
not even one
last
bag of
green tea
nor
mountain huckleberry
nor one last
sleeping
poet.
Danika
the
last of the patchouli
incense is leaving long
stringy trails
of ash
connected
like sausages
only smaller thinner
& not at
all meaty
(meat always
finds a way
in)
&
who were the spirits
who protected
this place &
why didn’t we also
ask them for
money?
Dear Danika
I’m
going home now.
There’s only paint cans
old radio equipment
blue foam
a creaking ceiling
some lumber
chairs I’m taking
incense smoke
a loud heater
& one dream
must be left
to die
& little piles
of very old
dog hair. Dear
Danika
it’s not
& leave a candle burning.
Email footnote from Jan 6, '07
----- Original Message ----
hey paul, thanks for the poem on yr global voices site. dear danika. i was touched and it brought back a lot of memories. mostly good. :-)
i think in a time of great emotional upheaval (divorce, saturn return, soul searching, arthritis, etc) splab was a grounding force for me. probably
more than i even realized at the time. we did good things there and it will be remembered fondly by many, many people.
love,
Danika,
You are very kind to reach out. Glad you liked the poem. I thought I had channeled some pretty good energy that night I was cleaning out 14 S.Division. I agree with your assessment and it would not have happened without your vision and commitment.
Best Wishes for continued Success, Health, Happiness and Prosperity in 2007 for you & Ken.
Paul
Paul E. Nelson
On 06/01/07, Paul Nelson
Hey, can I put this email as a footnote to the poem??
Paul
----- Original Message ----
sure thing, if you'd like. i'm with Ken in London at the moment. fly back to Vancouver on Tuesday.
As i was reading the poem, i could visualize you taking down everything we had put up, established, painted, etc. everything from the curtains to the book rack to the posters and candles, the stage and that rug! it must have been quite the emotional task to do so. i remember shopping with you and Rachel at the thrift store and finding those great couches and that barber chair. and the first time Beaver Chief stepped in to do a clensing for us how he took up the whole room... wow!
dd
Paul E. Nelson London, eh? Wow. I was there for the first time November 2005.
Yeah, the mind-picture you had is right. It was the Winter Solstice 2004, as I had moved most of the stuff to the new studios, which I no longer have. All of Global Voices Radio is in my house now. Yes, emotional. A good thing we did, I suspect changed both of our lives for the better. Also, I think with projects like these, it will grow in its mythical potency/dimension, because we were WAY ahead of the time, not just for Auburn, but the radio shows, the work with teens, workshops, the folks we brought in. All pretty remarkable. I'd still be doing it if I could make a living at it.
I am in Chicago. Got here Xmaseve and leave Wednesday. Pop is doing a little better with the acupuncture, but is VERY stubborn. A good lesson in unconditional love dealing with him.
Love to you & Ken.
Paul
From: danika dinsmore
To: pen@splab.org
Sent: Saturday, January 6, 2007 7:02:34 AM
Subject: poem
d
From: danika dinsmore
To: Paul Nelson
Sent: Saturday, January 6, 2007 9:53:49 AM
Subject: Re: poem