moon traveller herald

I came to know Sunnyland Slim through Harry Duncan and Paul DeMark. It was through Harry as well that I came to know John Sinclair. John was doing a radio show in New Orleans, and writing and performing what I called “Blues Poetry.” He heard of my book, “Sunnyland Blues” through Harry, and was very generous in compliments. Years later we were able to hook up, and to converse for magnetic media. The idea I had was to take John’s commentary on the art of blues poetry, and scribe that into a screed or broadside that he might add to the folio he would peddle as he conveyed his messages in the States and the world beyond. We met up multiple times, but usually briefly, and never quite pulled that type of thing together. But I talked to him via email just before he moved to Europe, and he was cool with the idea of me posting whatever it was I’d compiled anytime anyplace anyhow. Thinking way back - I described my work with Sunnyland as Blues Poetry. I thought, with John, there might be ...

Picked up on John Sinclair and his travels site where he recently posted his version of the Sunnyland Blues . It’s largely based on parts of the one Slim and I did. It appeared first in Fattening Frogs for Snakes , his blues poetry opus published in 2002 by the Surregional Press. John talked to me before he appropriated vast quantities of my piece. We discussed it, and jointly decided it was in the spirit of the blues to steal and borrow. It’s a premise of the blues to work with things that are out there, and adapt them with a new level of abstraction or different perspective. This is apparent in such scholarships as The Blues Line complied by Eric Sackheim [Schirmer Books, 1975] and in such rock albums as the Bob Dylan Time Out of Mind triptych, duly noted here and elsewhere. Sinclair dedicates his “Sunnyland Train” poem to me and Black Mike Henderson. Henderson played with Slim in the ‘70s as I recall. Sinclair does put his take on the original Sunnyland Blues. He matches my stuff ...

For Edward Albee. The doctor is the receptacle of the myth. The doctor found his week-dead wife In the jarred coffin On his lawn after the flood. The apples are getting heavy He said. And they are tearing down The limb. The doctor slit his wrist With an electric knife Cutting Thanksgiving turkey. In the old pylon pole South He’d let Bessie Smith To bleed on the highway Back when it rained Five days. The doctor is the receptacle Of the myth, And he is walking lazily Toward infinity. -Jack Vaughan

My friend Jeff Hull and I went first to see him up on Revere Beach Park way in the 70s. And later my friends Gordon and Sarah and me met up and saw him on Mass Ave at Frank's Steak House in the '90s. Sat next to old Dave Maxwell, Sunnyland Slim's friend, and an blues piano sheik acquaintance from the long ago Slim days. Preacher Jack plays boogie. And country. He is an artist madman, straight and simple. He used to sing/preach for booze in the Revere Beach days..but he has mellowed, deepened and cooled the alcohol bit [but is no less maddened, Jack!] Yet, say, listen to his take on Hank Williams' Singing Waterfall , and you find a soft soul eternal. Here is his schedule [he sort of appears on the scene and goes away] for December. He has a new Rounder Record, and a myspace site. On which there is a way-back pic of him - shown here - with Jerry Lee Lewis that is totally etheral. Once Preacher gets to preaching, which is every time, he doesn’t stop much. You may want t...

Took pic in New Orleans in about 1999. Ran through filter. Was on way to Smith & Wollensky's Steak House, in the evening as the sun went down

Got to Dennis Pultinas' for dinner with Jake and Cecelia. And Allison, Walter and Detrich and met niece Ella. [Victor was in Ecuador on way to madri gras in Rio.] And we talked about trees, cats, buildings, New York. Dennis cooked fish and I served jambalaya. Added some comments to recipe which is more a general scheme than a coded program. Click to access. http://moontravellerherald.blogspot.com/2006/02/jack-corker-jambalaya.html