Meet Your Local Writers

Meet Your Local Writers

Cynthia Anderson Rose Baldwin Jon Christopher Mari Collier Giovanni Garcia Jean-Paul L. Garnier Brent A. Harris Gabriel Hart Rik Livingston Dave Maresh John Sierpinski Kurt Schauppner r soos

In 1945 two farmers accidentally unearthed a jar containing twelve leather-bound manuscripts while digging in a field near Nag Hammadi, Egypt. Or was it one farmer, Muhammed alSamman? Or was it two boys gathering bat guano for fertilizer? And were there twelve or thirteen manuscripts? The story all depends on which "scholar" is telling the story. The story is contained in hundreds of books with different reasons, different translations, and different “scholarly” interpretations of the words.

What this small book does for the reader is take away the conflicting stories and take away the non-existent title the “scholars” gave the manuscript. This book contains only the poetry of Jesus as transcribed by Thomas. Enjoy the beautiful words and make up your own mind without a scholar attempting to influence your understanding. Sit with Thomas at the feet of the teacher. This book is available at Rainbow Stew in Yucca Valley, Space Cowboy in Joshua Tree, Ravens Books in Twenty Nine Palms, and Amazon.com. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cholla Needles is a nonprofit organization. We are proud to sponsor this “meet your local writers” party to give you an opportunity to meet a group of local writers.

You’ll have a chance to speak with them and purchase signed, personalized copies of their books.

We also want to take this opportunity to introduce you to Cholla Needles magazine, our beautiful monthly literary magazine, and encourage you to share your creative material with us. It is a joy to show off the vast variety of material your friends and neighbors create, and give you the opportunity to join in the fun.

You’ll find recent copies at Rainbow Stew, Space Cowboy, and Raven’s Books.

You can keep up with literary events happening all along Hiway 62 from the Morongo Valley to Wonder Valley at www.chollaneedles.com and/or facebook.com/ChollaNeedlesPoetry. Friend us at facebook.com/cholla.needles.3 so you can share your own events with all of us.

Let’s work together to be sure you are featured in future “ meet your local writers” extravaganzas! You can begin by sending your visions and writings to

editor@chollaneedles.com

Meet Your Local Writers Contents 4 6 12 14 20 22 28

Cynthia Anderson Rose Baldwin Jon Christopher Mari Collier Giovanni Garcia Jean-Paul L. Garnier Brent A. Harris

30 34 36 40 42 44 48

Gabriel Hart Rik Livingston Dave Maresh Kurt Schauppner John Sierpinski r soos Venue Addresses

We hope you enjoy meeting some of our exciting local poets, novelists, short story writers, and artists in the pages of this magazine. You’re also invited to put the following dates and times on your calendar. Bring your family and meet the writers in person!

Saturday November 3, 2018 11:00 – 3:00 Art Colony of Morongo Valley 11165 Vale Dr, Morongo Valley (760) 363-7937

Sunday November 11, 2018 12:00 – 5:00 Space Cowboy Books located in Sun Alley

61871 Twentynine Palms Highway, Joshua Tree (949) 705-8087

Saturday November 17, 2018 12:00 – 5:00 Rainbow Stew Giftshop & Art Gallery

55509 Twentynine Palms Highway, Yucca Valley (760) 418-5170

Saturday, December 1, 2018 12:00 – 5:00 Raven's Book Shoppe 69225 Twentynine Palms Highway, Twentynine Palms (858) 829-8250 At each of these venues, the writers will sell, sign, and personalize their books for you.

Books by local authors make perfect holiday gifts “for the person who has everything.”

You’re welcome to stop by and talk to your favorite writer, or all the writers. Stay for 10 minutes, or stay all day. We’ll have refreshments on hand. Plan to enjoy our beautiful desert weather and take advantage of this great opportunity to get to know the writers who live here.

You’ll also meet folks from nonprofit organizations, like Mil-Tree for veterans and their families; Spark Growth! for children who need help with reading skills; and Cholla Needles for writers, artists, and photographers looking for a publisher. Discover how these local groups can help and support you!

This publication is printed locally at Hi- Desert Publishing Co, Yucca Valley Copyright 2018 by Cholla Needles Arts & Literary Library. FEIN 82-4844952 Authors, artists, and photographers will retain personal copyrights to all original material shared in these pages. Cover photo by Mark Evans taken in Pioneertown.

Advertisers may request an ad sheet for future editions from editor@chollaneedles.com This project is also supported by tax-deductible contributions to Cholla Needles.

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Cynthia Anderson has the desert in her DNA. On her father’s side of the family, her ancestors lived in locales ranging from the Ridgecrest area to San Bernardino and El Centro. She and the 3 love of her life, Bill Dahl, began spending time in the desert in the mid-1990s and moved to the Morongo Basin in 2008.

Since then, she has thrown herself into learning about the natural and cultural history of the Mojave Desert—themes that are reflected in her poetry. “I’m obsessed by geologic time and the wisdom of rocks,” she says. “The Pleistocene especially fascinates me, because our local landscape was so different then—teeming with water and marvelous megafauna, like several species of ancient camels.”

Cynthia considers Dorothy Ramon’s book Always Believe as the most important book she’s read since coming to the desert. She explains, “Dorothy Ramon was a Serrano elder who related hundreds of stories passed down through her culture in the oral tradition. In the stories, you can learn about everything from creation myths to the ways of ancient shamans.” Those stories are also told in Serrano songs—in the past few years, Cynthia has learned how to play some of them on the Native American flute.

Her other favorite pastimes include vegetable gardening and birding. “I’m a beginning birder—most of what I know, I’ve learned from the experts on the weekly bird walks at Big Morongo Preserve. Many of the birds I’ve seen there have found their way into my poems.” Her greatest extravagance is buying poetry books—the names most frequently seen on her bookshelves include Mary Oliver, Joy Harjo, Marie Howe, Pablo Neruda, and W. S. Merwin. “I read widely and constantly,” she says. “Poetry is the passion that drives my life.”

Cynthia has adopted a motto from the writer Ashleigh Brilliant: “The pen is mightier than the sword. So in this dangerous world, I always carry a pen.”

She has used her pen to write seven books of poetry, all with photographs by Bill Dahl—Waking Life, Desert Dweller, In the Mojave, Shared Visions I and II, and Mythic Rockscapes I and II. You can find links to her books, as well as interviews and YouTube videos, at her website, www.cynthiaandersonpoet.com 4

Another Spring

Eternal Return

When I say I’m grateful for spring, I mean sparrows—the white-crowneds who flock into junipers and forage

The ground you raked yesterday is already covered with flotsam and jetsam, random plant parts that ride the night wind— leaves, pods, stalks, and burrs.

The pure, undisturbed state to which you aspire recedes like your hair. Years of effort behind you still drive you to wave the rake forward and back, trace patterns in the dirt. From this you make meaning— then make it again.

all morning, hidden in the thick canopy.

Their voices give them away—a flurry of whistles, buzzes, trills, and chirps that turn ordinary life into opera. As long as I’m still and keep my distance, they let me listen—so here I stand before the chorus trees, beside the dry wash, below an aching blue Mojave sky—sun pouring down, no sound except this prodigal song that meanders on—

___________________________________________________________________ What others have said about Cynthia Anderson:

Through her lit and compassionate lens, readers may listen to the old language and know this star-pointed place “where a spider web holds the earth together."

- Jennifer K. Sweeney

Cynthia Anderson’s poems are a beautiful portrait of the desert she loves. Catherine Svehla, Ph.D.

Anderson's language is as spellbound as her subject, rising from the land itself, its alchemy of silence and time, from arias of beauty and melancholy. Let her show you how to know the desert with new senses. - Marsha De La O

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The first thing I noticed about Rose Baldwin is her mischievous grin. There's a joy in her demeanor that is contagious, and she keeps the atmosphere sparkling with an attitude of "you never know what I'm going to do next." So I asked her about her cats.

"Love/Hate. They wake me up when I'm dreaming and make me laugh when I'm trying to have a pity party. Hard to have a pity party with cats around."

“I learn from watching my cats,” she says.

“I have two. Claude is an orange tabby and Yang is Siamese. A few days ago I stepped on Yang’s tail. He yawled and ran away. Claude was right behind him. When Yang stopped Claude sat in front of him and licked his face.

Isn’t that just the perfect thing for a friend to do? That will become a story someday.”

“I’ve always seen stories in small things. When I had a day-job I’d entertain myself by noticing little things like that and often mentioned them to coworkers. I worked in conservative settings and those observations weren’t always appreciated. Several bosses even suggested that I might be happier doing something else for a living. They were right! I like writing better than any other job. But it’s also funny that I’ve run into some of these people and been surprised that they talk about our shared work experience with fondness and admiration.”

Spending time with Rose is a pleasant experience. It’s fun that she is "just a little different" and her plainspoken, ordinary words are insightful peeks into our humanity.

Rose ended our time together with small peeks into her private life. "My talents are procrastination and lunch. My loves are Vodka and Dark Chocolate.

And, shhh, I sweep the dust from my patio onto my downstairs neighbor’s patio when no one is watching.”

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A Drop’s Story – the beginning (from Cholla Needles 21)

This journey, like so many things in the world, started on a sunny day.

From my perspective, one second there was nothing and the next I was being lifted into the sky and put into a cloud. Others like me were there - other drops of water. Most of them were passive - limp drips who rolled this way then that as the cloud moved. But some whined and clustered together, then screamed in unison when others got close to them. Some just stood looking at everyone else.

There was one bunch of drops that seemed to know what was happening.

They laughed and jostled one another, unafraid.

Then, without any sign that I could see, the happy drops jumped out of the cloud. One of them shouted, “Come on, it’s fun,” as he fell away.

Before I could decide what to do, the cloud opened and rained all of us back onto the ocean.

Anyone would expect that I would just blend back into the nothingness that I had inhabited, but that didn’t happen. Somehow my awareness of myself as a drop separated me from my former life, and made me restless. I thought all the time about doing or being - even though I didn’t know what to do or who to be. _____________________________________________________________________________________

Rose Baldwin, Author Rose Baldwin is a Midwesterner by birth and a Californian by choice. She worked as a staff writer at the Burlington Standard Press and a stringer for other papers in Southeastern Wisconsin. Her fiction appeared in Cholla Needles, Creative Wisconsin, Straitjackets Magazine and was included in the 2017 Inlandia Anthology. Her novel Mike’s Magic Burger was published in 2017 and is available at Space Cowboy Books in Joshua Tree and can be ordered from Amazon. The Claire Stories were published in October 2016. They are available digitally through Amazon. Since August 2014 she, Claude and Yang have called Rancho Mirage home. None of them miss winter.

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ART / POETRY BOOKS FROM CHOLLA NEEDLES ARTS & LITERARY LIBRARY

Zara paints that which she finds mysterious. She views art making as a means of processing the subconscious, and its end vision providing a way to better understand ourselves and the meaning behind our shared existence. In her work, this language often consists of symbolism, curious landscapes familiar yet distant, and figures that are often as confused as we are.

Zara Kand has lived and exhibited in many parts of the world. She lives in the Californian hi-desert where she spends her time painting, gallery directing, and encouraging people to read books. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Noreen Lawlor is a poet, artist and therapist who lives in Joshua Tree. She shares that the harsh yet fragile environment of the desert has informed her recent writing. Her poems have appeared in various anthologies and periodicals including Cholla Needles, A Bird Black as the Sun, Inlandia and The Sun Runner. Noreen openly shares her methodology “the question for me has always been how to find words to express the light on the bark of a eucalyptis tree or to paint the way the morning sun feels on your skin.�

Cholla Needles Arts & Literary Library publishes in Joshua Tree, CA. We make our books and magazines available locally and through the world wide web for desert visitors. Keep up with news and events at www.chollaneedles.com 8

Our belief is that children can make sense of their world and grow in knowledge and skills by taking part in enrichment opportunities such as Spark Growth! where children along with their parents and families can participate in a variety of literacy and language activities so that literacy becomes a way for them to “read the world”™, have a sense of community and contribute to the world as well. The Spark Growth! Literacy and Language Enrichment Pilot Program is a local community outreach service for young children and their families in the Morongo Basin. Find out more at sparkgrowthprogram.com _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Enjoyable kid’s books make the difference between books your kids want to read and ones that stay on the shelf!

Written for Grades 1 & 2 melaniestineshannon.com _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mil-Tree It is our mission to bring together veterans, active-duty military, and civilians in order to help each other to address the wounds of the soul through communication and art.

Through Mil-Tree, diverse people in the community come together to increase mutual understanding and respect, and are provided with safe opportunities to express, help process, and support the healing of soul wounds, especially those of war, through the power of storytelling, speak-outs, healing retreats, art, music, movement, and nature.

www.mil-tree.org 9

Seven Stars was one of literally a thousand literary magazines published in the Nixon Era and beyond. The magazine formally ended in 1998 after 260 issues & this 300 page anthology highlights a few of the powerful moments of the history in the small press movement. The magazines are literally falling apart from age now and this new selective release gives audiences a chance to visualize one of the many poetic movements that were active in those years. A short history of the press is included. r soos was the editor of Seven Stars Magazine for over 25 years.

He oversaw the release of 260 issues. He is the author of over 20 books of poetry, and is currently the editor of Cholla Needles, a monthly literary magazine based in Joshua Tree.

This 300 page anthology from Seven Stars Poetry (1973-1998) features Kenneth Rexroth, Greg Wyss, Charles Bukowski, Denise Levertov, Will Inman, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Tony Moffeit, Muriel Rukeyser, Yannis Ritsos, Kimon Friar, Alan Catlin, Nancy Brizendine, Ed Sanders, David Chorlton, Simon Perchik, Spacelady Moonwalk, Tony Moffeit, Hans Ebner, Louise GlĂźck, Gary Metras, Carol Lem, Kathleen Keller, Henry Rollins, Samuel Schraeger, Carolyn ForchĂŠ, Carl Solomon, Gary Soto, Joseph Bruchac, William Everson, Gerald Locklin, Lou Harrison, James Marvelle, William Wantling, Don MacQueen, B.Z. Niditch, Galway Kinnell, Lorna Dee Cervantes, Jaqueline Bowles, Kathleen Keller, A. D. Winans and many more.

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I can see your artwork on our cover in 2019! Can you? And, how about some of your poetry or short fiction inside? Yes! I can see your work in here. We love to support local writers and artists. And you know that includes you! Be a part of our movement by introducing yourself and your work to editor@chollaneedles.com 11

I've read Jon Christopher's novels and find myself speechless when having the opportunity to interview him.

"So, what do you want to ask me?"

"I don't know, what would you like people to know about you?" I asked tentatively.

"I wish I was good at mathematics. It came so naturally to my father, but I’ve always struggled with it. Also, I’m not often a wizard, but when I am, I’m Gandalf."

Leave it to someone I admire to leave me stumped. I'm sitting there thinking I better leave and try to get an assignment interviewing a politician when Jon shakes me out of my reverie, "So, we done here?"

Figuring he might fall for honesty, I told him the truth. "I have to fill a whole page about you as a human being, because I was told most readers don't understand that authors are human beings. And, to be up-front, I am kind of intimidated because I do love your novels so much I'm almost afraid to find out that you're a normal human being."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I know that when I die I’d like to come back as the All-Being of Time, Space and Dimension. Otherwise I’m human enough & if I couldn't come back as the All-Being, I’d settle for coming back as a human again. Of course, it would be really great if I could come back with my true love, Tania! Would you believe? Thirty-one years and nine months so far!

Even better if we could come right back here to the hi-desert! In fact, why bother with coming back? We'll just stay right here in love forever. That would be my great achievement. If the current All-Being of Time, Space, and Dimension won't give me my first choice, then I'd be happy coming back as Jeremiah, the Old Testament Prophet."

I know my editor would slap me across the head if I didn't bring the interview down to earth somehow, so I asked Jon who his favorite hero is in real life.

"You think you're tricking me into coming down to earth so your editor doesn't fire you? Am I right? Don't look at me with your mouth wide open. I know people. And, to answer your question, I don't have a hero. I have heroes. My heroes are Social Workers. I have the highest respect for those that help others, especially those with the greatest needs. And, I'll end this by answering the question everybody wants to ask but are too shy to.

Yes, those are really my dreads. I’ve had them for almost twelve years. Now leave so I can get back to writing my next novel. Nothing else really compares to creating something using only imagination. And yes, of course you can use a picture of Suki in the article."

Now, how to slide that last request past the editor?

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From Jon Christopher's latest novel Meanwhile There Were Dragons:

Chapter 1 - Tiny Dragons No one noticed the dragons when they first appeared. No one but Jonas Knight. They were so small, about the size of a house fly. Jonas noticed them the first time they landed on the windowsill of his cabin. Jonas was a hermit and lived tucked away remotely in the San Bernardino mountains.

The dragons were so small that Jonas had to get out his big magnifying glass to clearly see the features on these new visitors that had just shown up at his window on this fine spring morning. Sure enough, thought Jonas, those are dragons.

Jonas had lived in the mountains for many years and was intimately knowledgeable about all the various critters and insects who were his neighbors.

These dragons were like nothing he had seen before. He put out a bowl of bread soaked in kerosene and five or six tiny dragons came to the bowl and started eating.

By fall a handful of small dragons were regularly feeding at Jonas’ cabin. The dragons had grown to the size of large lizards and flew in a small group that followed Jonas around as he did his daily chores.

The young dragons playfully shot burst of flames into the air as they flew around. Jonas had put out lots of fires started by the dragons. The dragons were pretty intelligent and seemed to understand when Jonas scolded them about starting random fires. Soon the young dragons started putting their fire breathing skills to use toasting small vermin and clouds of mosquitoes.

Throughout their first winter the dragons kept on eating and growing. Jonas continued to feed them bread, and anything else he was eating, soaked in kerosene. The little dragons loved the kerosene and would belch little puffs of smoke after eating. __________________________________________________________________________________

Jon Christopher is the author of three novels, soon to be four, and five, and six, and well, you got it figured out. As long as you love to read, he will love to write.

He also designs books. You can find out more at www.travelingshoespress.com.

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Mari Collier started the interview for me. "Can I see your questions?" I explained I sorta listen and then ask questions.

She said, "Good, because people like you never ask the right questions. I can’t tell you the truth if you ask silly questions.

I was born on a farm in Iowa on a mattress my parents made. It was covered with an oilcloth. The doctor did not arrive in time, so my mother had me with the help of a midwife everyone called Tante Anna. On the farm we had no electricity, and we lived there till I was four.

Our next farm was my grandmother’s. Once again, no electricity. There were no indoor facilities, nor was there indoor water. Mama had to bring all the water inside with a bucket. At least the pump was right outside the back door. My grandmother would not install electricity or water. She had gone without that in a house all her life and she saw no reason to spend money for such things.

My parents bought a farm when I was nine and we moved again. This time there was running water in the house and the washhouse. There was no electricity and no indoor facilities. The Rural Electrification Administration (REA) didn’t make it to our area until 1950. Papa helped install the poles and lines, but did not pay for lines going to our house.

Our entertainment was our imagination, sometimes a movie on the weekend, and the lead battery radio which my parents controlled. We heard the news, The Lone Ranger, Gun Smoke, Fibber Magee and Molly, Red Skelton, Can You Top This, The Shadow, Kraft Music Hall, and other shows. Books were few, but good.

Like everyone else on the farm I worked out in the garden and the fields."

Later I became so ill, Mama had to take me West. The desert healed me. I have returned to it now in my retirement years. I’ve worked as a bookkeeper, collected for a loan company and did repo work for them, worked on my husband’s construction jobs, and was an Advanced Super Agent for Nintendo of America.

At Nintendo I was in the Correspondence section of their Call Center. They paid me to read, write, talk, play games, set up a lesson plan to teach others to route the correspondence, and for me to update the Correspondence section of ELMO. When I was sixteen I met Lanny Dee Collier. On our first date he drove an old battered car and took me rattlesnake hunting. We married three years later. He has gone on before me, but not before we celebrated forty-five years of marriage."

Mari was intuitively correct. I wouldn’t have asked the questions to get us to her essence. Afterward I did the math (16 + 3+ 45 = 64), and realized that only a master storyteller is able to condense sixty four years into one page in such a spellbinding manner. And, I know there’s much more about her life she’ll be willing to share next time we meet. It’s an honor to listen to Mari Collier. You can read more about her and learn about the science fiction books she has written at www.maricollier.com 14

from The Silver and The Green, Chapter 1: The Burning The Teacher staggered into the small cave overlooking the darkened prairie.

The northwest skyline was a sea of orange-red flames dancing against a blackened skyline. He had fled from the fire raging at the Western Star Shift Institute. He turned to the north and saw the red and yellow glow emanating from the distant black resin wells and in the sky the Star Path of the Way to the Stars was gone. Tears flowed down his face to mingle with the sweat that poured down his face and chest.

His hands were bleeding from scraping the rocks, his cassock was tattered from his headlong flight, and his black skull cap lost somewhere along the trail.

His breath came in ragged pants and he felt as though his chest was being crushed. It has to be here was the thought that drove him higher into the deepening, dark greening night towards the cave the old Teacher had told him about.

Upon reaching the opening, he sank to his knees and offered a prayer for the keeping of the Way. Then he removed the burden from his back and stood, his eyes trying to see in the darkness. Slowly he circled the inside of the cave and knocked his shins against the metal chest. He knelt beside it and put his head down on the chest to rest. His breath was improving in here where the green air had not completely penetrated. He opened the chest True Man had left. There was an old blanket, a metal cup, a pot, and a pan. No chickolet tea remained. A shame, thought the Teacher, a last cup would have been a fitting thank you to the man who had once saved Tonath.

He removed the wrapping from the outside of his bundle and put the contents into the chest. With luck it would remain here until the next Teacher found it. If there is a new Teacher, the thought returned to haunt him. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mari Collier has written 14 books. Her most recent releases are: The Silver and The Green (The Chronicles of Tonath Book 2), and Twisted Tales From A Skewed Mind (where you’ll meet a boy who doesn’t grow old, a witch that wants to be normal, an Iowa farm woman battling frogs, a vampire that chooses to live in a sunny desert, and more.)

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Tobi Alfier gets the heartbeat of the men and women, who live in small towns near Route 66 type roads, perfectly. Listen closely and you’ll hear Richard Hugo with a brilliant feminine edge. These poems, full of passion and grit, get us somewhere special and wise, even glorious. — Tim Suermondt, author of Election

Night And The Five Satins

Tobi Alfier (formerly Cogswell) is the author of seven chapbooks, including Down Anstruther Way, a collection of Scotland poems, and A Coincidence of Castles, a collection of Ireland poems. Her poems have appeared in Columbia College Literary Review, Hawai’i Pacific Review, Fourth River, Gargoyle, The Los Angeles Review, Concho River Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, Chiron Review, War, Literature & the Arts, Cholla Needles, and other print and online journals in the US and overseas.

Tobi has a weekly craft of poetry blog on chollaneedles.com

Somewhere, Anywhere, Doesn’t Matter Where by Tobi Alfier $14.00 paperback, 76 pages, available on Amazon ISBN: 978-1947465626 Kelsay Books, American Fork, Utah ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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At Joshua Tree Coffee Company pursuit of perfect is the name of the game.

We started out roasting just two pounds at a time out of our home kitchen for a year and a half on a little tiny roaster, and are now roasting on a revolutionary Loring Smart Roaster with many cafes and retailers around the world enjoying our meticulously crafted roasts. From painstakingly selecting only the most choice high grade specialty coffee, to spending days developing roast profiles to bring the best out of each coffee, and roasting on what represents the only truly significant reinvention of the roaster ever, we'll stop at nothing to ensure we offer the best coffee in the world.

We're dedicated to selling organic coffee and spreading the word about its importance Coffee is the third most heavily sprayed crop in the world. DDT and banned pesticides are often used at origin, so farmers and their families are suffering horrible deformities- including children that are born missing limbs. While it's up to an individual to decide whether or not they wish to consume these chemicals when they drink coffee, there's no excuse for people to continue to support non-organic growing when they've been educated as to the adverse affects it's having on farmers, their communities, and the environment. Join in and help in spreading the word and/or in making the switch to organic coffee!

Fair Trade and Rainforest Alliance Certification It's perhaps easily as important that coffee be either Fair Trade or Rainforest Alliance Certified. Fair Trade helps to ensure that workers are given fair living wages, and Rainforest Alliance goes even further helping to address not only wages, but also the environment. It's critical to the environment and the quality of the coffee that chemical fertilizers aren't used and lands aren't deforested. Deforestation destroys the habitat, shade, and available nutrients that define the flavor and quality of the coffee harvested.

Joshua Tree Coffee Company 61738 Twentynine Palms Highway Joshua Tree 760-974-4060 jtcoffeeco.com 17

Fred Rosenblum's new book of poems, Vietnumb, is a work of abiding humanity that deepens our understanding of war, no matter when or where it's fought. This is an impressive collection that casts long shadows from the American War in Vietnam across half a century to current conflicts and the deployment of a new generation. The turbulence of these poems is at times hallucinatory and at times welded to traditional shapes that allow both poet and reader to somehow contain the horror. The flinty language renders the sight, sound and smell of combat in jagged, unrelenting detail. Rosenblum's poems grab us by the throat, insisting that we never forget what the loss of innocence looks like, that we always recognize the lie, pro patria mori. - George Kovach, Editor, Consequence Magazine Fred Rosenblum is a poet residing with his wife of 44 years in San Diego, California. His work has appeared in publications throughout the US and Canada, including Cholla Needles.

His books are available locally, and on Amazon. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

John Brantingham is the author of East of Los Angeles, Mann of War, Let Us All Pray Now to Our Own Strange Gods, The Green of Sunset, and The Gift of Form. He is an English professor and the director of the creative writing program at Mt. San Antonio College, writer-inresidence at the dA Center for Cultural Arts, president of the San Gabriel Valley Literary Festival, and Poet Laureate at Sequoia & Kings Canyon National Parks A truly touching, introspective work that delves into emotion and longing that the everyman can easily relate to. Deeply moving and altogether wonderful work. – Charlotte San Juan Brantingham is a master of the written word - each choice is deliberate and reflects the meaning of the whole poem and collection, building into a crescendo for each ending.

There are no punches pulled and nowhere left to hide from confronting his reality - a reality we all know too well. - K. Turner 18

When Micah Wada proposes to end San Juan Cajon's endemic classroom overcrowding by building a one-of-a-kind school, his audacious plan crystallizes the deep racial and political conflicts which have divided the city's Latino and Anglo residents for decades. Wada’s innovative approach also places him in the midst of a bitter rivalry between the governor of California and the state's most powerful senator. The tension draws him into a passionate affair that leads to a cowardly murder.

The Salvation of San Juan Cajon is available for your reading locally, and on Amazon.

Michael G. Vail’s stories have appeared in Howl, the literary journal of Copper Mountain College, and Cholla Needles magazine. The San Francisco Foundation has commended his fiction writing for the depth of its insight into California’s complicated history.

Michael is also one of the nation’s leading school facility planners. He has been responsible for the funding and construction of over two billion dollars in classroom projects.

The Salvation Of San Juan Cajon is Michael's first novel. He can be reached at: mgvailsanclemente@sbcglobal.net 19

Giovanni Garcia has a healthy skepticism of creativity. In our conversation he expressed a fear and fascination with common, everyday experience. "It seems to me virtually nothing is immune to intellectual curiosity. I am content with approximating creativity, artistry, a literary character. I find it a full-time job of staying inspired by mundane things."

He utilizes an altar ego, Medea Sinsation, to dig deep into areas he may not explore using his own psyche. Medea represents the scorned woman, and sinsation is a play on sensation.

Some religions express a belief that anything which brings forth a human sensation is sinful. Giovanni delves into this side of his creativity with a rap-like poetic trilogy of thought, "My worst inequity is being a bit too human. And I find the best quality in myself is the ability to pretend that I am perfectly humane. And I am most afraid of caring thoroughly."

Music and fashion are motivating factors in his life. Prying words about the mundane is tough and it took the question of music to drag a mumble out of him, "I’m happiest where good music entrances into rhythm." I've been with Giovanni when he is excited, and when he was nervous. He seldom wears his depression in my presence. When pressed, he exhaled, "The greatest love of my life is dead." Unsure whether or not this was said in confidence, I ask if that's something he wants to share in the profile. "Sure, why not? It's true. Truth is all we have."

When at a loss for words, there's always childhood. Giovanni obliged, "My childhood was in books–the ones I was allowed to read–and persevering through a good book was childhood, at least for me. The Books of Oz were my favorites, but Narnia, His Dark Materials, and Crestomancy make the list too." And how about the future? "I want a PhD from my dream school. Still, reality interrupts. I am Medea Sinsation, who is Giovanni Garcia, but I’d actually rather end up ‘Iphigenia.’ Come hell or high-water, I shall embrace the new differences that are enriching the life of my very soul."

"I will never feel guilt for proffering the best fruits of my imagination, and all that remains is for me to cultivate resolve to refine and edit my current projects to a standard worthy of my best. I commit to writing more, writing more pages, every day. I don’t crave acclaim, but I aspire to live in a world with you in which we can be sincerely fulfilled."

"I’m not steadfast or certain as a writer, but, believe me, I try to be. I do my utmost to keep myself entertained while I seek to entertain as many readers as shall have me. It’s not quite as silly or easy as you’d think, either."

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Letter from a Young Artist And when you imagine yourself an Artist, Know imagination For what it is, No guarantee of interpersonal comprehension, No universal tongue Your dialect garnished with idiom and jargon.

Artist: I must speak my language broken, Fill the fissures of Beauty As I sculpt in color, reduce with whistles, A chisel gripped between my teeth.

Artist, We are not all born for opera, If you can ring through the halls, You must take up hammer and chisel If you cannot, Exfoliate the parched skin of the times.

And when you imagine yourself an Artist, Erect Towers of Babel In all your pride. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dandelion Summer

Let me know when you’re letting go Can we drift into wishtime?

Can we hitchhike into the dandelion summer?

Can we peter out on some dying hot thermal after We please these children of feathers blown Riding the Mojave whither it blusters And together fall germing weeds only young once ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Giovanni Garcia has two books available for your reading pleasure, The Inflatable Catechism (Space Cowboy Books, 2016) & Spread (2018).

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Jean-Paul Garnier has a vision and unlike most people, he works hard to make his vision a reality. He writes. He wants people to buy books. So, he opened a bookstore. In Joshua Tree. The theory is simple, if you build it, they will come. His bookstore is named Space Cowboy, so of course I want to know if he's been on a spaceship ("not yet"), and if he has been a cowboy. "Well, to be honest, I’m not afraid of much, but the sound of a horse neighing scares the crap out of me."

We got onto the subject of other things he dislikes. "Well, in myself I deplore laziness. I try to combat this with discipline. I am an autodidact and feel that the learning process needs to continue endlessly. In others I have a deep antipathy for pettiness. I feel that almost every one of the world’s problems could be solved if this one trait was eliminated. I'd add selfishness and lack of empathy also. Dishonesty." I laughed & he quickly understood, "True, I write fiction. Writing fiction is professional lying and is the only circumstance that I find it acceptable. There is an intellectual honesty in good fiction; while the circumstances and surroundings may be made up, the raw emotions of the characters are always true. I don't think there'd be any reason to read if that weren't the case."

Jean-Paul has created an admirable life for himself. After all, starting a bookstore in a small town and surviving for three years is a success story that few would have predicted. "I write science fiction short stories and speculative poetry, so it was only natural for my bookstore to specialize in science fiction.

We carry a little bit of everything (classic literature was my first love) and I love talking to all kinds of readers and writers about the amazing depth of the field of literature."

With this kind of perseverance I wondered who had influenced him the most.

"My father. He’s a self made man and one of the hardest working and talented people I know." It's obvious Jean-Paul has taken on those qualities from his role model, so I asked if he has a personal philosophy about success. "Never falter on your ethics when conducting business."

Why Joshua Tree? "Dark night skies and the stars above. Silence. A blue collar existence. In the desert, every day is a full experience. Each moment keeps me awake and aware. That's exactly how I'd like it to be when I die. Awake and aware. I’d like to experience the last experience of my life, then enter the void and rejoin the cosmos." He did add that as much as he loves Joshua Tree, "I’d love to do a stint in Antarctica."

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Humanization they say the human face will make it easier we want to create in his image make machines the way we make babies then tell ourselves there is a difference the human quest for slaves so permanent every man must be king, soft hands tastier, the fruit of another’s harvest served with a human face despise all beneath one’s vantage gratitude wholly unnecessary, very existence a debt a human face, expressions pay interest better when you are a god to subjugate a face allows empathy, empathy allows power my purchased underling, do as I say every wince justifies and validates my orders no face will make them human, that’s what the whip is for ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"One of the things that I love about writing sci-fi is that it is inherently hopeful.

By writing about the future it must be presupposed that there is a future, and if there is a future then there is hope. " Jean Paul Garnier's most recent books are Echo of Creation (Traveling Shoes Press), In Iudicio (Cholla Needles Press), and Future Anthropology (Space Cowboy Books).

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Jeffrey Alfier's gaze is empathic and disarming. The working poor and social outcasts are given a home in deftly-honed stanzas. Highways, hotel rooms, and bars become both holy and profane spaces. His attentiveness to the distance between people is instructive, tender. His language blazes with insight and grace. — Eduardo C. Corral They are things of piercing beauty, sweetness and sadness, these poems drawn from the sun cooked, windswept Mojave and the harbor towns of the West Coast, poems that glimpse the lives of drifters passing through as well as folks who seem as if they’ve been in these parts forever. What Richard Hugo did for Montana, Ted Kooser for Nebraska and its surrounding territories, Jeff Alfier does for the open road and the half abandoned or uncelebrated towns and settlements of California…I find him to be one of the most effective and moving poets of the American West.

— Suzanne Lummis Jeff Alfier is 2018 winner of the Angela Consolo Manckiewick Poetry Prize, from Lummox Press. In 2014 he won the Kithara Book Prize, judged by Dennis Maloney, for Idyll for a Vanishing River, his third collection of Southwest poems.

Other books include The Wolf Yearling, Fugue for a Desert Mountain, The Red Stag at Carrbridge: Scotland Poems, and The Storm Petrel: Poems of Ireland.

Anthem for Pacific Avenue: California Poems by Jeff Alfier $14.95 paperback, 54 pages, available on Amazon ISBN: 978-0985607685 Cowboy Buddha Publishing, Benton, Arkansas

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Art & Poetry Kendall Johnson grew up amidst the sage, lemon trees, colleges and artists of a small town east of Los Angeles. Claremont, CA could very well be one of the best-kept secrets in the history of Modernism, the period that is recognized as the mid-century, post-war explosion of all things cool and Modern. Southern California offered a fertile testing ground for many of the architects, artists and craftspeople that have now defined Modernism as a movement. In " A Whole Lot'a Shakin" Kendall Johnson has embodied with both words and art the treelined neighborhoods and entire artistic movement that made Claremont what it is today – an almost utopian community. This movement encouraged critics and historians to call Claremont a "Modernist Mecca". - David Shearer Kendall Johnson is no stranger to mixing mediums. His prior books include Fragments; An Archeology of Memory and Johnson’s Pasture; Living Place and Living Time. His paintings have been exhibited across the United States, and his composite photographs illustrate the novel In Cabazon. Kendall grew up in the citrus groves of Claremont, CA, fought fires and later consulted with the U.S. Forest Service and other emergency agencies in disaster stress management.

As a psychologist and trauma specialist he has written several non-fiction books and numerous articles on trauma and school crisis. He trained crisis teams and rendered direct support following numerous school shootings, natural disasters, and 9/11. When disasters come on the news, his nostrils flare, he whinnies, tosses his head, and paws his hoofs on the ground as always, but nowadays he mostly writes or paints about it. He is the Director of Gallery 57 Underground in Pomona, and lives in Upland, California with his wife Susie Ilsley. Keep up with Kendall at layeredmeaning.com 25

amazon.com/author/rsoos r soos is an acute observer of the worlds he comes in contact with.

He translates both his inner and outer world with equal grace and fluency. His poems soar into a soulful playground and swing across the page visiting subjects and returning, then off again a bit higher visiting a new thought. Later he is caught swinging back to a vivid recalling of a thought or incident worth reporting on. His Selected Poems is a powerful, intelligent selection from 50 years of work. - Antony Paulson, editor of Poetry Review

r soos lives in joshua tree. all books are available locally & on amazon 26

’

The poetry community will be celebrating the 200th anniversary of the birth of Walt Whitman on May 31, 2019. This is our opportunity to catch up before the party by reading his important works. As a young writer he produced short stories and novellas, mostly forgotten these days because of his important place in history as the father of modern poetry. He was not always celebrated as a poet. His first book of poetry, Leaves of Grass, was released in 1855 and met with the following reviews: "We find upon our table (and shall put into the fire) a thin octavo volume, handsomely printed and bound. We shall not aid in extending the sale of this intensely vulgar, nay, absolutely beastly book, by telling our readers where it may be purchased." - Frank Leslie, Illustrated Newspaper "In glancing rapidly over the 'Leaves of Grass' you are puzzled whether to set the author down as a madman or an opium eater; when you have studied them you recognize a poet of extraordinary vigor, nay even beauty of thought, beneath the most fantastic garments of diction." New York Daily News "Walt is one of the most amazing, one of the most startling, one of the most perplexing creations of the modern American mind." Translatlantic Leader "We have glanced through this book with disgust and astonishment; - astonishment that anyone can be found who would dare to print such a farrago of rubbish." Dublin Review Ten years later, his second book of poetry, Drum Taps, was released to similar acclaim: "In its way, it is quite as artificial as that of any other poet, while it is unspeakably inartistic...emitted in barbaric yawps, it is not more filling than Ossian or the east wind." W.D. Howells, Round Table "It has been a melancholy task to read this book; and it is a still more melancholy one to write about it... It exhibits the effort of an essentially prosaic mind to lift itself, by a prolonged muscular strain, into poetry...this volume is an offense against art." Henry James, Nation "...inexpressibly pathetic..." New York Saturday Press Walt Whitman’s final book, Goodbye My Fancy, was printed only for friends, thus never reviewed.

Cholla Needles has released the original versions so you can see why critics are wrong-headed.

The books are available locally, and on the web. Click on “Walt Whitman Books” at chollaneedles.com

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Brent A. Harris exudes an air of confidence when he climbs the stairs to read aloud from his latest creation in front of an audience. Ask him to sit down one on one and talk about himself he looks like a kindergarten student waiting in line at the principal's office. He admits right off, "My greatest fear is having to talk about myself to other people."

How did you end up living in the desert?

"The military, mostly. My wife is stationed here, and I found a serene-ness to the place I do not wish to part with. It's a beautiful place to raise my family."

What's your favorite example of serenity?

"Playing board games with my wife, music in the background, drink in hand. Lots of laughter."

Tell me the story about asking your future father-in-law for your wife's hand. "I grew up in a family that enjoyed re-enacting history with others. I love history, and I have no problem showing up to a re-enactment to watch. Myself, I prefer WIFI and showers. I'm personally not into having to churn your own butter and bake your own bread at 3 am so you have something to eat before drill at 6. I respect my family for doing it. And for doing it exceptionally well, I might add.

The only time have I ever attempted to participate in a re-enactment - this is to answer your question - was when I formally asked my father-in-law for his daughter’s hand. Please keep in mind, he had a firearm in his hands when I asked."

Most people say they love honesty. As a fiction writer, does anyone ever confront you about lying? Do you feel you ever lie? "I only lie when I’m given a list of questions to answer. Kidding! Really, most people understand fiction is a place to escape to and is not real life. That's not to say I'm not living in the world I'm writing about in my head as I write, but it's totally different than dishonesty. It truly is a full and vivid part of my imagination that I love to share with readers."

You've been in the military, married, a father, and a living breathing published American novelist. What do you feel is your greatest achievement? "I’d like to think, outside of my family, I’ve not hit my greatest achievement yet, because where’s the fun in not having a new dream to fulfill?"

You did a lot of research for your book. Do you feel you understand the motivations of the people from the past better? "I’ve been in the minds of George Washington and Benedict Arnold so often in writing this novel that I believe I could sit to tea with them and carry on an intelligent conversation. Just so you know, Benedict prefers beer. Also – there’s a statue of Washington in London."

Can you tell us about someone living that you admire? "Oh yes. The one person who has purchased my book. All kidding aside, I admire everyone who wakes up every day, takes a breath, and says 'let's get this party started!'"

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from: “The Terrible Lizard of Holborn Hill” The rank smell of cigars, beer, and sweat, was more Old West than London High Society. It was if the smoke itself had wafted through an open Chronus Corporation time portal. Gideon Green sniffed. Still, it was better than the filth and urine-filled streets outside. London’s sewer system wouldn’t even be designed for another ten years.

“Time-travel, they told me. See the past, rescue a few errant dinosaurs. Fun, they said.” Gideon’s nose wrinkled as he made his way through the club. “They never said how badly the past smelt.” When he’d signed on for this job, he was only looking at the zeros on the check. Now that he was here, he realized there wasn’t enough of ‘em.

“Cool it, Gid.” Jill Horner returned, “people are turning their heads at your talk.”

The Englishmen were strewn over the club in their chairs, like wet towels. Those not invested in their drinks upturned eyebrows toward the two newcomers.

“Me? You’re dressed as a man in a Gentleman’s club, a look you’re not entirely pulling off. They’re not looking at me. Let’s just mosey on downstairs all relaxed-like, get our dinosaur, and go home. Should be easy.” Gideon checked to make sure his taser was secured before heading to the stairs and took another look at his companion. Jill did not pass for a man, even with her hair chopped short – she’d found a knife in the kitchen a few minutes prior and butchered it without hesitation.

But it wasn’t her hair that held Gideon’s sway; it was her face. She held the look of a child in a museum, rushing from one exhibit to another, cheek pressed against glass. She wanted to be here. She was the historian. He just dealt with the dinosaurs. There were no dinosaurs in 1850’s London. Well, there wasn’t supposed to be. The Chronus Corporation’s malfunction with the time portal had caused some interesting displacements. This was Jill and Gideon’s second mission, having recently recovered an Ornithomimus from Feudal Japan. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Brent A. Harris is the author of the Sidewise Award nominated A Time of Need: A Dark Eagle Novel, which spins a darker twist on the American Revolution.

In a change of fate, George Washington fights for the British and wrestles with his loyalties as he watches his countrymen struggle under the yoke of war. His nemesis, Benedict Arnold, seizes power and will stop at nothing to restore his family's honor by driving the British out of the colonies. www.BrentAHarris.com 29

Gabriel Hart focuses his creative work on real life.

Real life consists of breathing and finding ways to survive. Tough for most people, so I asked him, what is your idea of perfect happiness? "Chasing divinity."

Short, sweet. Big question, little answer. How can I crack through? New question, what is that you most dislike? "Chasing divinity."

I quickly sensed I was way out of my league. I've read Gabriel’s books, and heard the albums he’s made with some excellent musicians. Everything he does has lots of words. And he's giving me two word answers. He’s making me trap myself in my head and making me wonder if he's being serious, or pulling my leg. He's acting serious enough. So I'll hit the gut next, what’s the trait you most deplore in yourself? "Ah, something to gobble down on. I really hate getting trapped in my own head. That habit often leads me to falling victim to what I most deplore in others, because I deplore it in myself - complete unawareness how I may be coming across to others. Looks like a lack of empathy because I'm off thinking in another world. I do that. And I hate when others do it."

Why do you think you do that? "I think it has to do with the people I grew up around. Men today seem to have either too much emotional sensitivity or they lack it altogether. I identify most with the heart-on-sleeve man, though not at the expense of his more primitive instincts. I grew up in a punk gang in Orange County. We created a bubble where crying on each other's shoulders was just as acceptable as moving the furniture out of the living room so we could beat each other senseless. The women I admire have patience, fortitude, and wideeyed curiosity. The girls in our gang were outnumbered by the boys. This made them tougher, more decisive, louder with their opinions. To be honest, while we often treated them with equal tenacity to reach some semblance of gender equality, we also absolutely worshipped them, which threw all that "equality" out the window. I'm constantly in awe that they were willing to put up with us."

"There seems to be something about my physical appearance that causes people to ask "Are you okay?" This is the only time I allow myself to be a little dishonest, just to keep things moving...I enjoy sharing, but I tend to over-share if given the chance, so there's a discipline in the white lie of "I am fine. Everything is fine."

With all your experiences have you developed a personal philosophy?

“Learn all lessons the hard way.”

Finally, why are you living in the desert? "Chasing divinity."

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from the novel: Virgins In Reverse / The Intrusion I was forgetting to act my own age. Still young yet pre-maturely senile, living in the burnt out rock n’ roll Armenian district of Hollywood with all its chipped paint creating shadows pointing fingers down dark alleys, beckoning me to make off-beaten path maps in my dormant heart - avenues that could allow my blood to flow through rather than the clogged uphill battles of teasing, unrequited love from impossible women that I could just as well obsess over while getting my rocks off, smearing my face all over whatever part of the atmosphere the billboards had not yet stolen. No shadows of impending gentrification were going to freeze us barnacles of the Blvd. who would only move when no one was looking, like dying but determined soldiers, out of ammo, instead turning our glass bottle bayonets on ourselves in absurd benumbing protest. I picked up right where I left off before that Holy woman had entered my life, making no distinction between my apartment and the street, between moments of pant-pissing intoxication and ones of revelatory clarity, morphing the meanings of safe and sorry into a single naked display of blind adventure that turned every distant monster into a close comrade, who’s names I would never remember. The smog of the day would remain as the fog of night, creating a reflective lid on this sprawling Petri-dish that would send all the lonely fluorescence right back down at us in competition with the erratic helicopter searchlights hunting for their prey.

There was a hierarchy to the landscape, which in itself is not native to Los Angeles but unique for its blatancy! While it’s to be expected that the well-off live in castles in the hills that cast shadows on the rest of us, the foothills accommodating boutiques and restaurants that seemed more like museums with no culture or sense of history, down by our more slithering section of the 101. Proof alone in its own unassuming overpasses. Contrasted to the ones in the Franklin Hills that were carefully covered in tarp-lined chain-link tunnels that would give one the confidence to cross from one side to the other; as you got further down to our seedy section you would notice these phase out, being demoted to mere hand-rails, before finally retarding to thigh-high suicide friendly booby traps that were screaming reminders of the “what-if” temptation to take the plunge, should there not be the constant paranoia of that silhouette approaching you that could push you off with little to no effort. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Author / songwriter Gabriel Hart lives in Morongo Valley. He leads the L.A. based punk group Jail Weddings whose third album is Blood Moon Blue.

Their previous album Meltdown (2013) was voted Best Album of The Year by L.A. Weekly, and Best Band of the Year in 2014.

Gabriel’s twin novels

Virgins In Reverse / The Intrusion will be published

2019. His Space Cowboy chapbooks are Cinema of Life (2016) & Nothing To See Here (2017).

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Rik Verlin Livingston is sitting in a chair as I arrive.

He's taller sitting than I am standing. His warm smile put me at ease. When I'm a bit uncomfortable I start with a joke. You're so much closer to the sun than I am. Is there another place you'd prefer to live than Joshua Tree?

"I'm one step ahead of you. I've already chosen to live in The Land of Zono! I'll share a little picture of it with you, but it's a lot more fun to go walk around on the map at ZonoArt.com‌and you thought I lived in JT‌tho' there ARE similarities. Like a cool bookstore, and a library, and a ranch."

Since you seem to enjoy a good life in your head, if you were to die and come back . "Oh, an easy one - I'd be a griffin; good mix of earth and sky. And, of course, if it's cosmically available at the point of birth, I'd prefer my own conception of a griffin. I love my imagination. It has made it possible for me to exist and even thrive thru' out my life so far. Humor's a close second, for much the same reasons. Tho' I'm not sure if I possess them or they possess me? After all, think about it. The lowest depth of misery is a normal job. Punching a clock, etc. Beware! Un-fun!"

"My life is blissfully Art, in all its different forms. After all, art is the true function of humans; Evolve, Homo Aestheticus!! What would life be without Mark Making. Making my marks on everything! Some have called this writing and drawing. I do both a lot. I value art and friends. I value friends who value fun!

Truth is highly important also. It's harder to have fun with people you can't trust!"

Do you have a hero in the world of fiction? "Felix the Cat. I admire his bag of tricks. He imagines what he needs for the situation and out of the bag it comes!

And Martin Luther Thing. I'd like civil rights for all the weirdos! My real life heroes are the great teachers I've had. I made links to some of my teachers on this web page page: zonoart.com/info/resume/EducateHonorReference.htm You can see the cover of my space cowboy book and one of the poems from inside on page 35. See how my world works? Imagine it and it happens!"

Rik Verlin Livingston ZonoArt@Yahoo.com www.zonoart.com

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Dave Maresh opened up when asked about how he came to be a desert dweller. "A phone call. I was looking for a teaching position, and like any job it requires interviews, committees, and strange questions that have nothing to do with reality. Then I received a phone call from a Principal who simply asked me if I was willing to work in the desert. The desert was one place in 1970 where teachers and other humans were too smart to live.

How could there possibly be a future in the desert with cactus and no water? Me, on the other hand? I simply thought, I can get this fantastic job without all the normal rigmarole? So, I said yes on the phone. I loved the idea that they didn't need to see me, didn't care what I looked like, if my great American novel was going to be about them. They didn't care. They simply wanted someone smart willing to do it. And I was. So, sight unseen, I was hired, and in 1970 I became a desert dweller. For life."

He spent many years teaching the young folks of the desert, and recalls fondly guiding students towards publishing class yearbooks and newsletters over a period of 25 years. And yes, he was in a garage band with Manny. There’s a book in that. He plays his guitars, and smiles, "Well, can a musician really have too many guitars?" He loves the joy people experience from his cartoons.

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A poem that turned up one day without ever asking for it

Poverty Soup

All about red And so just what about it?

Without it we'd be dead?

No, can't say that But without it We wouldn't have red coming out of a wound Besides that's blue, isn't it?

The poor They number like electrons They seek what is distant If they could march forever after food They would trample every cabbage and taste In the way Marmalade Roast meat in fire Hunger of the day Late nights they sing like a well prepared choir Their situation is always dire But the poor Their men are strong with pride He don't mind a thin poverty soup To slurp and a woman at his side It's not so bad He says I see no ants

Dave Maresh is the author of 14 novels. HIs most recent publicaton is A Book That Turned Up One Day, a wonderful collection of poems and cartoons from Cholla Needles. His work appears regularly in Cholla Needles Literary Magazine, and was also featured in Howl (2018), published by Copper Mountain College. Quite content as Dave Maresh, he does have a secret.

"Clarence is my favorite name. I wish I were a Clarence."

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A Populist Manifesto in Poetry and Art by Susan Abbott available locally and on Amazon ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It is the fiery pinnacle of autumn in New York's Hudson Valley when Lola, a troubled recluse, reports her newborn kidnapped from outside a seedy bar. But no one's seen Lola with a baby, or even heard of him before now. Everyone assumes the boy is one of her delusions. Only Marko - a chivalrous, drug- dealing ex-con of Romani descent - is devoted to Lola. But even he questions her story, given her fragile sanity and reckless selfmedication. With help from Mary, the owner of a local salvage business, Marko hunts for answers.

From the Hudson Valley to New York City's East Village, he follows a dark path to the truth, navigating doubt, vengeance, and love.

Susan Rukeyser’s debut novel, NOT ON FIRE, ONLY DYING (Twisted Road Publications, 2015), was an SPD Fiction Bestseller and a finalist for the 2016 Lascaux Prize in Fiction for published books. Her short fiction, creative nonfiction, and multimedia work appear in numerous publications including Hippocampus Magazine, Atticus Review, Whiskey Paper, Interfictions, and SmokeLong Quarterly.

Originally from the Northeast, in 2017 she fled to California's high desert. Her wonderful collection of short fiction, Swap/Meet, was published by Space Cowboy Press in 2018.

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Edgar Allen Poe

Edgar Allen Poe's first collection of poetry, Tamerlane and other poems, was self-published in 1827. The author was unnamed, simply stating By A Bostonian.

Fifty copies were produced. The single unsigned critic of the edition proclaimed, "'Poems written during youth, no matter by whom written, are best preserved for the eye of the writer."

A second collection was released in 1829 with a few extra poems, and this was repeated in 1831. In 1845 he finally received some notice for his poetry with the release of The Raven and Other Poems by Wiley & Putnam which sold for thirtyone cents. It was release #8 in their Library of American Books.

Poe was a huge influence on Walt Whitman, who in 1855 also released his first collection of poetry without his name on the cover or title page, and received the same poor reception from critics. Like Poe, he continued writing poetry throughout his lifetime.

His book Poems is available at all local venues, as well as Amazon.com. While we were unable to convince Edgar to take a break from his rest so he could join us with all the hi-desert ravens and Raven Book Shop to sign your copy of his book, he did agree to sign this catalog for your pleasure.

Kurt Schauppner loves telling stories but not about himself. He simply finds other people to be infinitely more interesting.

Dragging a personal story out of him is tough. He's usually the interviewer and he suffers from "great social anxiety" and, worried he will say the wrong thing, often opts to say nothing at all. What a team we make, two men with the same disease.

His greatest extravagance, he will tell you with a straight face, is salt and vinegar potato chips and the person he most identifies with, he will say with equal sobriety, is Wally Cox. His greatest fear, he will likely not tell you because he does not know why he would, is losing his mind, which is odd considering that usually dislikes the way his mind works. On the other hand, OCD comes in handy when you are a community theatre actor and have a lot of lines to memorize.

He dreads the day he finds himself lying in a hospital bed and finds that being able to walk from one side of a room to the other means he has had a good day.

Okay, philosophy can be maudlin. So, let's talk about music. "I’d like to be able to play the trumpet, because I would like to be cool like Miles Davis."

"My best friends are the ones who love me because of who I am and not in spite of it."

He often overuses the word sociopath but he knows he is not one because he sometimes worries that he is one and he is fairly certain that if he were a sociopath it wouldn’t bother him one way or the other.

He doesn’t despise anyone, not because he is a wonderful person but simply because hate, like running and jumping, involves entirely too much effort.

Many people wonder if storywriters are good liars. "I do occasionally cherry-pick the truth in order to avoid confrontations with loved ones," he said.

How did you end up being a writer in the desert? "Work. I came out for at job at the Hi-Desert Star. I do love it here, but in my heart I'd love to live someplace where I don't need a car."

"I wanted to say 'my health, I came to the Morongo Basin for the waters,' and then you would say, 'what waters, we’re in the desert' and then I would reply, 'I was misinformed' but I don’t want to get sued

by Warner Brothers."

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from Ghosts of Ide County: Some people die and become ghosts. Some skip a step.

Sometimes a man belongs to himself and no one else, not family or friends, no one who needs him and no one who is needed by him; these cases are exceedingly rare but they do occur.

More often, a man belongs to the people he loves and the people who love him, his family and friends, the people he needs and the people who need him. Sometimes this is a small, intimate group. Usually, this is a group which grows, slowly and steadily, over the years, beginning with a man’s immediate family, his mother and father, and expanding from there.

Knoll Madison’s life was owned, not just by his parents, Marv and Maddy Madison, his paternal and maternal grandparents, Dutch and Addy and Leo and Mary, and his older brother, Chet, but by every single man, woman and child who lived in the small farming community of Clemons, and this began before he was born.

When Marv’s parents, Dutch and Addy, and Maddy’s parents, Leo and Mary, decided they no longer wanted to run the little almond orchards they owned on the Sacramento River north of Clemons, they waited patiently for their children to step forward and take over the farms, saving them the trouble of putting the acreage on the market.

None did until Marv and Maddy, who grew up on those farms and fell in love with each other while working the almond trees or, more often, wandering the countryside together or just watching the Sacramento River rise and fall, decided to return from their new-found lives in Sacramento. He was a shopkeeper and she was a pre-school teacher.

While there is usually very little truth in anything that “everyone knows” it is sad but true that everyone knew Marv and Maddy would fail in their efforts to make a go of their families’ ranches. No one said anything, however, because, while it would have been helpful, in that it would have saved Marv and Maddy a lot of hard, futile work and their parents a lot of difficult, equally futile concern, it would not have been polite. _____________________________________________________________________________________ Kurt Schauppner writes plays, poetry, newspaper articles, and novels. His novels are available at local bookstores, and at lulu.com. He is currently composing Working on Mary’s Confession and other Poems.

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Can you tell by looking which of these three is a local writer? If you chose all three you’re probably right, because John Sierpinski, like many of us, believes that fine writers are everywhere, including all of you who are reading this magazine. Each of these brave characters has a story to tell, and the guy almost smiling on the right is the one who finally lives full time in Yucca Valley.

John moved here early on in 2018 from Wisconsin, and has a good feeling of nostalgia for the place he says "is a good place to be from." He reminisces, "I think I was happiest at the tender age of nineteen when I had my own apartment on the east side of Milwaukee and my love life was varied and hot and everything seemed possible.

When I look back at it now, however, I can see that it was somewhat shallow and definitely transient. I like my life now minus the aches and pains."

It was easy to see that a man who was happiest at age 19 must have a few regrets in life, so I asked the question. "Yes, that's easy. I regret that I didn't take writing more seriously earlier in life. Well, I did, but I didn't starve over it, I didn't play guitar until my fingers bled." That stopped conversation for a few minutes, and it was a very comfortable silence.

Spending time with a quiet man, the thought that most comes to mind is humble. When pushed, he reinforces this by explaining its part of his life philosophy, "The quality I most like in a person is humility -- a self security that doesn't need to brag or exaggerate to build themselves up. It's not groveling, it's teaching and learning." It is unusual to meet a person who actually lives his own belief. He explains his humility in an interesting way, "I work to stop being the egotist with an inferiority complex."

When asked about his fears, John opened up a bit more. "I still feel like a newbie out here and find it difficult to get off of my dead can and connect with others and make friends." When asked about his greatest fear, John thought for a few minutes before responding, "My greatest fear is the fear of the finality of death when faith is lacking. Instead of an afterlife, there is a black hole, an abyss, everything gone in an instant. What a terrible nightmare to have."

A time-stopping statement like that could throw the entire interview, so I asked him about his successes in life. "My motto is 'if at first you don't succeed, start over, try something else'.

However, I am very glad that after a lot of years of work, work, work, sweat and revision, I finally put my poems together in book form and found a publisher for it. Another part of my life I have worked to make last, and I should say it because she may read this, is my great love for my wife."

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Polish Claw, Circa 1952 I step across the red paved bricks of Cleveland Avenue, Harrison Street, Ninth Place, Lincoln Avenue, Oklahoma Avenue, and Sixth Street. I wade into the “crick,” a tributary to the Kinnickinnic River. I look at Myron, wearing his bloody apron in the butcher shop, drink orange soda and eat black licorice at Mary’s tavern.

I cry over my fat busia with white hair in a bronzed casket inside the stone building and frosted glass of Schneider’s Funeral Home. I try and count the dirty bricks of the factory that is Lindemann’s Hosiery, walk through the glass doors of Model Bakery, mumble childish prayers within the looming spire of the Polish National Catholic Church. Smell the stink of Mr. Printke’s cigars, vinegary head cheese made by Mrs. Bartz, Rose Schefshick’s cabbage and rutabaga soup, the ugly odor of Sylvia’s home permanent. Laugh with horse-toothed Larry Horbinski, hide from “Crazy” Yavega, fish with Sam and Bobo Majewski. I am afraid of Uncle Irvin and his nervous breakdown. The earthy smell of incense, the light of candles fill the Saint Stanislaus Shrine. Aunt Irene yells at drunken Uncle Eddie Balcer. Then she sings the song, “Eddie, My Love.” The sun pokes through the elm tree canopy that stretches over the street. __________________________________________________________ John Sierpinski’s book, Sucker Hole, is published by Cholla Needles in 2018. It is available locally at Rainbow Stew, Space Cowboy Books, and Raven's Book Shop.

Ed Werstein wrote: "Sucker Hole is a collection of sharply cadenced poems, filled with wildly creative images. “ Gray swallows the sun and spits out mouse hair.” An old car’s license plate flapping on one screw becomes “ a poor man’s wind chime”. In one poem, the speaker’s father swallows “the salt pill of duty” and heads off to work. These are poems of childhood trauma, addiction, lost love, hard work, and regret. This hard-hitting emotionally moving narrative is so gut-wrenching that it will leave you hoping, in vain, that the poem’s narrator is not the poet. In the end you know they are one and the same. Nobody could make stuff like this up."

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Rich Soos seems to have a perpetual smile, so I asked what makes him perfectly happy. "Perfect happiness to me is getting up on a beautiful morning and making breakfast for my good buddy Richie, the guy who keeps me young. We play music and bop around the porch as we eat pancakes. Richie has taught me how important it is to learn to live in your own skin with peace. When we start the day like that, and end it by watching the sun set…that is perfect happiness."

So then, what is your greatest fear? "That my beard will do that “banana bread” thing. You know when you slice banana bread and it’s a little crooked? You try to even it up, and you slice it crooked the other way? And you keep doing it, and the loaf keeps getting smaller and smaller as you pile up tiny slices of banana bread on your napkin?

I’m afraid I’m going to do that to my beard one day. And it will not look like me, and my smile will not look like my smile. And parts of my face that haven’t seen the sun in a long time will get sunburned, unless I wear sunblock, and that’s just way too much to be worrying about when there are so many other things in the world to worry about."

Do you have an extravagance? "Antique typewriters. They can be bought fairly reasonably, but if you want to use them, it’s hard to find carbon paper and ribbons.

Vinyl record albums. There is something so wonderful about carefully placing the needle on a spinning disc and listening to an old Pete Seeger album. Hawaiian bowling shirts. Hibiscus makes me happy. I’m never going to paint like Gauguin but I can wear him. I’m never going to be a referee but I can wear stripes. I can’t pick just one extravagance so consider this question to be plural, not singular."

You seem a little distracted, what is your current state of mind? "It will be happier once this catalog is completed. I can see why the others wouldn’t answer these questions. Usually I’m happy as can be."

Which talent would you most like to have? "I wish I could play the saxophone better. I love going out in the desert night under the magnificent stars, and serenading the cholla with the best music I can play. I just wish it were better. And I wish I could compose and play the piano better. I’m not too ashamed to have my weird music things on YouTube, though most of my friends pretend their speakers are broken and they can’t hear me."

Where would you most like to live? "Exactly right here, in the desert. Joshua Tree is where I love, and want to live."

What do you value in friends? "Honesty and loyalty. I sound like an ad for a dating service. Or a Trump cabinet member appointment. Anyway, I ask my friends to read my work and tell me if something isn’t working, and I respect them for it. Then we close everything up and go bowling. I have many acquaintances and very few friends. I feel very blessed."

Who are your favorite writers? "I have many favorite writers, although in truth I am mostly familiar with writers published by Cholla Needles. I would not publish someone I did not like, or believe in."

What is your motto? "Never search through royalty free images using words like 'submit' or 'submission'. The brain is a wonderful partner. Of course, so is my guitar. You want to hear a song I wrote for today? Oh, okay, you need to move on, I get it. Thank you Tobi, it’s been fun."

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from During The Music  poet

ahead

cautious

I do not grow old I simply feel more wild with the need to dance

walk along singing without a destination bothering my mind

voices wait to speak withdrawing to the corner listening for space







barrier

ashes

margins

borders are not marked or seen from space orbiters but soon they may be

raked into small piles preparing to be buried for next spring's garden

they all seem so blank fill pages entirely let worlds be messy







meaningless

peaceful

home

what more can be said once truth spills itself over it must all be cleansed

enter the earth alone without the eternal fear inhabiting death

life happens outside until you miss the dances with your mom and dad







house

safe

done

understand my heart sense what matters is within quiet song at home

hidden from myself waiting for some betrayal to bloom from within

I just want to say hello as a new poem stay and see me dance

r soos hangs out in Joshua Tree. He is the author of over 20 books of poetry. His recent collection of 500 poems is titled during the music, published in Joshua Tree by cholla needles (2018).

His latest chapbook is The Third Horseman, imagined into English from the words of César Vallejo.

The Third Horseman is published by Space Cowboy Books (2018).

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Cindy Rinne is a storyteller and record-keeper of many cultures. She creates myths as novels in verse using voices, and nature's words in stories the characters want told. Her language is rich with texture and description. The reader connects the ancient with present and sacred within. You can follow Cindy, view her art, and purchase her books at www.fiberverse.com

San Pedro River Review Published by Blue Horse Press Redondo Beach, California San Pedro River Review is a biannual, perfectbound journal of poetry and art. Submission windows run January 1st to 31st, and July 1st to 31st each year. Spring issues are themed, fall issues non-themed. Representative poets include Naomi Shihab Nye, Ellen Bass, Afaa Michael Weaver, Alex Lemon, Joseph Millar, Jack Bedell, Adrian C. Louis, Marge Piercy, Joe Wilkins, William Wright, Reginald Dwayne Betts and Jack Ridl.

See guidelines and more at www.bluehorsepress.com

With keen observation and feeling, a sense of wonder, humor, and humility, Lucy Griffith portrays in lyric form the life and soul of The Burro Lady. The Burro Lady, ever marked by pride and independence, was described at her funeral as the most famous unknown person in the area. She Ruth Nolan is an author based in California's receives a lovely, lasting, unforgettable tribute Mojave and Coachella Deserts. A former seasonal wildland firefighter for the US Forest in Griffith’s poems. A moving and delightful Service and Bureau of Land Management experience awaits every reader.

- Myrna Langford, Librarian, Trinity University, retired

throughout the Western U.S., she is now professor of English and Creative Writing at College of the Desert in Palm Springs, CA. Her poems appear in Cholla Needles, and her books are available locally and on Amazon.

Contact Ruth at ruthnolan13@gmail.com

A Burro And A Broke-In-Hat is published by Cholla Needles, and is available locally and on Amazon. Lucy is a retired psychologist, and happiest on a tractor named Ruby, (a muse with 25 horsepower).

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Other Books Available from Cholla Needles Arts & Literary Library

Art Books From Cholla Needles Arts & Literary Library

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Place on your calendar! “Meet Your Local Writers” Venue Schedules: Saturday, November 3, 2018 11:00 – 3:00

Sunday, November 11, 2018 12:00 – 5:00

Space Cowboy Books

Art Colony of Morongo Valley 11165 Vale Drive Morongo Valley, CA (760) 363-7937

61871 Twentynine Palms Hwy Joshua Tree, CA (949) 705-8087

Saturday, November 17, 1018 12:00 – 5:00

Saturday, December 1, 2018 12:00 – 5:00

Rainbow Stew Giftshop 55509 Twentynine Palms Hwy Yucca Valley, CA (760) 418-5170

Raven's Book Shoppe 69225 Twentynine Palms Hwy Twentynine Palms, CA (858) 829-8250

located in Sun Alley