Prometheus 6   

For Immediate Release July 21, 2003
Contact: Marcia Schneider 415 557.4252

City Reflections: War and Peace on Our Streets

A Project of San Francisco Poet Laureate devorah major

City Reflections: War and Peace on Our Streets, a poetry project of San Francisco Poet Laureate devorah major, will launch in late July in association with the San Francisco Public Library.

"In these times, the poet must seek a clearer voice and a sharper eye," said Ms. major. "Therefore, poets, children through elders, are encouraged to write on this topic while looking at the city where they live."

The best of these poems will be made available to the public through publication in the San Francisco Chronicle Book Review, on the Library's Web site, and other locations and sites.

Each month the Library's newsletter, At the San Francisco Public Library, will highlight a San Francisco Bay Area poet selected by the Poet Laureate, featuring a short biography of the poet, a list of reading recommendations compiled by the poet, and a direction to the City Celebrations project on the Web, www.sfpl.org. Effective in September, the Library's Web site will feature up to five new poems each month, photos of the poets and recommended reading lists.

Individual poems interpreting the theme of War and Peace on Our Streets should be submitted to:

San Francisco Poet Laureate devorah major
c/o Public Affairs
San Francisco Public Library
100 Larkin Street
San Francisco, CA 94102-4733

Entries will be accepted in the following categories:

• youth under twelve;
• teen;
• adult;
• working poet;
• poems focused on a specific neighborhood.

Please indicate the entry category upon submission.

City Reflections: War and Peace on Our Streets will culminate in April 2004 at the conclusion of devorah major's tenure as San Francisco Poet Laureate. The occasion will be marked with a small exhibition of the best poems collected throughout the project.

War and Peace on Our Streets is supported by the San Francisco Chronicle, Mayor Willie L. Brown, Jr., Youth Speaks, City of Poets, Friends of the San Francisco Public Library, San Francisco poets and the San Francisco Public Library.

For more information, please call 415.557.4277.

City Reflections: War and Peace on Our Streets

Effective September 2003, the San Francisco Public Library Web site, www.sfpl.org, will feature selected poems from the City Reflections: War and Peace on Our Streets project. Priscilla Lee is one of the fine poets whose work will be featured.

Priscilla Lee's book of poetry, Wishbone, was published by the Roundhouse Press as part of the California Poetry Series. She works at an Asian-American senior activities center in San Francisco and lives with her husband and two cats. She is currently working on her second book of poetry, Chu's House of Lovely Animals. Books she thinks folks should read:

Against Forgetting: Twentieth-Century Poetry of Witness by Carolyn Forche (Editor)
Journals by Kurt Cobain
The Soul of a Chef: The Journey Toward Perfection by Michael Ruhlman
Proverbs of Ashes : Violence, Redemptive Suffering, and the Search of What Saves Us, by Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker
The Matrix and Philosophy: Welcome to the Desert of the Real (Popular Culture and Philosophy,v. 3) by William Irwin (Editor)

Moon Cake
By Priscilla Lee

Celebrating the harvest moon,
Grandma opened the Doungh Ah
bakery boxes. Inside, palm-sized
cakes, each in its own waxy bag,
duck egg yolk in the center
with its thin sheen of oil, glistening
like a moon. I saved the yolk
for my last bite, letting the saltiness
surprise my mouth. The year I started
growing breasts, Sherilyn and I asked
our mother for the recipe. "Too much trouble,"
she answered. We'd made brownies
for the school bake sale so moon cakes
shouldn't be difficult--red bean paste,
some pastry crust, pickled egg yolk.
I bought a wooden mold
from Ginn Wall Hardware and read
"Wei-Chuan's Chinese Cooking
for Beginners." We stuffed the cakes
into the round wells, flattening
the tops with our knuckles.
We whacked the mold against
the back of a chair, hoping the wood
wouldn't crack and catching the cakes
when they flew out. In the oven,
all twenty exploded, yolks splitting
their delicate skin. That year, I thought
I might be dying from cancer, one nipple,
a hard lump, growing out from my chest.
When I screamed for my mother
in the bathroom, she told me, "Shut up!
You'll know later. From now on,
Don't let anyone touch you."
Does that mean I can't play kickball?
I didn't know about training bras
or anything until I read "Are you there God?
It's me, Margaret." Now, I want to create
moon cakes for the next generation.
This time, with fillings of Haagen-Dazs
ice cream or chocolate chip cheesecake.
I've ordered fuchsia plastic molds
from Malaysia, but I haven't figured out
the egg yolk. What can you substitute
for a bright round moon?