The good and clever always thinkin and dreamin darlings of Mega Mega Mega had the idea to bring a visual artist and musician together, asking the musician to wander at the wonders of Mega Mega Mega artists and pick a painting and sing a song - and get the two together to talk about it. Thankful the mule has done got me here, and surely enjoyed chatting with Molly McGinn. More art and music in the future with Mega for sure.
ekphrastic
Ekphrastic 3
(Bayou Baptism)
By Annie Ferguson Muscato
Memory plays the fiddle
a sad dancin’ tune
take me to church
under a blue wearin’ moon.
Where cicadas sing the chorus
hymns ‘bout comin’ home again
preacher croaks the sermon
and hoot owls call amen.
Holy moss in the collection plate
cypress gather ‘round to pray
anoint me with muddy water
wash my sins away.
Ekphrastic 2
Dormant ancestral roots.
Family scrapbook on canvas.
Ma's apron hung up by the wood stove.
Bless her heart.
Catfish, corn bread, collard greens and Kool-Aid.
The neighbors seed bull loose again down by the creek.
Gopher snake disappears under a pile of shingles.
Wearing a flannel shirt top-buttoned at the neck, Pa says grace.
Frogs, tadpoles and minnows in the irrigation ditch.
Possum in the rabbit hutch. Damn nuisance.
Sears Roebuck catalogue and the Bible under a kerosene lamp.
Soy beans, cotton, yellow corn as high as you can reach.
Snapping turtle in a burlap sack.
Wash tub on the porch.
Canned peaches.
One room school house at the top of the hill.
Preacher man ask too damn many questions.
Homesteaders. 8 acres. Each corner marked with a pile of stones.
This is our land now.
Barefoot. Sunburn neck. Cane pole down by the swimming' hole.
Mind your manners.
Scratch a liar, find a thief. Yep, Grandpa always told us that.
Blue mule spotted with intention.
Sunday go to meeting, gray mule reminding us.
Black mule's dusty harness.
Keep coming back. Day after day.
It works if you work it.
Simple drudgery without complaint.
No need to explain.
Pray on it.
Preach sister, preach.
- Gary McMillan
Ekphrastic 1
they cast eyes down at me
like second class,
but it is they
who will never know
feeling of bare feet
warmed by sweet soil
sun has been baking
all day,
just for learned men
to find fault with
without ever tasting
- Corey Leigh Kirby