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56 pp 5.375 x 8.375 ISBN 0-9717265-0-7 (paper) $14.95 |
The drunk men at the Val Air Ballroom
want you to dance. Fat, sad men.
Farmers, their thick fingers root
around beers or whiskey ditches.
You can't say no to sad men. They won't hear it
and hear it all their lives,
the sound of a distant motor, a jet trailing west.
Yes, it's a good band. Yes.
The floor a carnival ride.
Boys from North English
thumb gravel for their first kiss.
Others run the long mile,
clouds a pink corsage.
Their girls won't wait but do,
lips pursed and their hands of wood or stone.
Later, at the motel, you want to sleep
and dream something far off
like golden light,
a walk through eucalyptus at home,
water held icy in your two cupped hands.
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---William Kittredge
Never before
has the universe crumbled out of a rotted fence post
so convincingly, an old dog been so wise, the lives
of tired bar flies mattered so much than in this
amazing first book. If by the end of The New Hand ou
don't feel like a beautiful zen monk then you
must be dead.
---Scott Poole
In The New Hand, Gillihan writes with ease about what comes easily, his ties to the land.
---Lee Juillerat, The Klamath Falls Herald and News
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Sean Gillihan lives in Klamath Falls, Oregon. His writing
has appeared in numerous journals, including Northern
Lights, Hubbub, Clackamas Literary Review and the
anthology, Writing On Water. He has been awarded a
Walden Residency Fellowship, and an Oregon Literary
Arts Fellowship. |
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