David's Copy: The Selected Poems

by David Meltzer, Jerome Rothenberg (Introduction), David Meltzer

One of the most respected poets of the Beat and San Francisco Renaissance periods, David Meltzer has kept alive interest in the interface between jazz and poetry that exploded in the 1950s. This new edition of selected poems includes previously unpublished material and serves as a map to this very prolific and interesting poet.

Genres: Poetry

288 pages, Paperback

First published October 25, 2005

About the author

David Meltzer was a poet associated with both the Beat Generation and the San Francisco Renaissance. A pioneer of jazz poetry readings, Meltzer also formed a psychedelic folk-rock group. He performed with the music and poetry review, "Rockpile." He edited many anthologies, including San Francisco Beat: Talking with the Poets (City Lights, 2001), and published 11 erotic novels. He taught for many years in the poetics program at New College of California.

Reviews

[M.W.P.M. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now for Instance the Idiot


Now for instance the idiot
who watches through the slit eye
and tilted head

a mouth that smiles without a sense of humour
watch him watching you
and know that he sees you

without smiling

* * *

Vision


The heart sees
what the mind sees
what the eyes see

differently

* * *

Revelation


It comes to this:
my teacup filled with steaming green tea.
Basho sits beside me with ohashi,
waiting for Reiko to bring out
the Nikku Nabe, the sake, some Kirin Beer.

The haiku will come later.
After dinner &
a Havatampa cigar.

* * *

For Joey Loewinsohn Age: 4 Months, 9 Days


Angels play accordions too.
Kazoos, ukes, banjos, tubas,
washboards, barrelheads, &
plastic chord organs.

Can't you hear them playing,
loud & cornball,
The Stars & Stripes Forever?

* * *

Self-Portrait


on the window
facing a wall of wood slats

Aww the hell with it!
Recognize the limit

2, 3 feet ahead of me: me
my face on the glass
looking up

* * *

A Rent Tract for Lew Welch


At the first month I go to the Rental Agency.
- Listen, I tell her, - I can't pay this month's rent because I quit my job because I have a great work that I'm working on that demands a great deal of all my time. My job was a rock in my heart, a black cloud in my head, & I'm a poet who needs time to be alone, so wander, study, loaf & drink, think, read, love my wife, learn about my kids, & work day & night on the great work. I gave this month's rent to my wife for food, diapers & wine. Won't you just forget about rent until my great work is done?
- Sure, she says, writing out a check for $229 (the exact amount to tide us thru a month) - & come back at the first of next month for your next check & turned back to her ledger.

* * *

New Year's Poem: 1967


Why it's my old friend the piper
back from last year's dying, blind
in one eye, one lung lost
hard of hearing, toothless, drinking
blackberry wine from a paperbag

leans on a car to watch the people go by.

* * *

from Eden Book


Oh but that's easy, she says.
He says it too.
It's easy.
Apocalypse is poetry's easiest song.
We're not scared, they sing together,
arms around each other.
We're not scared.
Let it roar.

* * *

Nature Poem


Absurd.
We talk of progress.

My hair falls out all over the place.
Into a bowl of mushrooms.
What a mess.
How much of it have I swallowed?
Yet I let my hair fall.
Ha.
See how man copes with nature.

My teeth stink.
Rot into nerve-end threads.
The enamel turns upon itself.
I allow my teeth to disappear.

My face falls into place.
Wrinkles work into folds, crack
& sag over my bent jaw.
I allow mu face.

My tongue dries like a prune.
Too much air.
I let my tongue evolve.

Soon I'll be an old man.
Many years ago I was a baby.

Absurd.
We talk of progress.

* * *

It's Simple


It's simple.
One morning
Wake up ready
For new work.
Pet the dog,
Dog's not there.
Rise & shine
Sun's not there.
Take a deep breath.
No air.
Look for the sun.
No sun.

It's simple.
Wake up one morning
Ready for new work
& the animals are on strike
With the air, the sea, the
Earth quits us.
Casts us off
Like a sickness in her fiery core.

* * *

from Bark, a Polemic


I ran one down.
Now car-chasing dogs
Cower from my car.

He was a rear-wheel barker
Chased me halfway into town
Day after day
Barking.

For what?
Dreamer.
No matter how or why you do it
You'll get run down.

* * *

from The Art


Once
each piece of paper
on the desk, on the dresser
even on the floor
could be accounted for
there for a reason

* * *

18:VI:82, for Art Pepper


Paul's niemandsrose
I place in Art's brass bell
alto Selmer on its stand

despite
encyclopedic light
held & shattered
by its curves
the horn's silence

& the rose
white like paper

[Erik · Rating 4 out of 5]

I highly recommend seeking out one of David's readings for anyone in the Bay Area. He's a charmer. I've always been pulled to writers with an affinity for music. I've found none with a greater affinity than Meltzer, raised by a harpist and a 'cellist and a musician himself in the hazy 70's. The excerpt here from No Eyes, a book-length piece for tenorman Lester Young, is a personal favorite.

[Jake M · Rating 5 out of 5]

Crucial!

[Dan Wilcox]

One of the "forgotten" Beat-era poets, who died in December 2016, inspired my chapbook-length poem "Inauguration Raga" (A.P.D.).