Her cat killed a bunny, which died in my hands

Azami is watching Deeds' house and her cat, Mr. Knightly. Her cat has a tendency to catch and kill animals, usually birds and lizards. Most recently, he caught a bunny. Azami saw him and yelled for help, as girls do with small mammals killing other small mammals, and I came to the rescue, of sorts.

The bunny died in my hands.

Azami held him, too.

Azami built a little altar as an art piece, a la Burning Man, before we buried the bunny in the backyard.

Canada Day in Sedona

Canadian-born Sedona residents celebrated Canada Day — the anniversary of the country’s founding in 1867 — at Posse Grounds Park on Thursday, July 1. The group included, from left, Joanne Marco, Tony Marco and Jacquie Randall, all from Hamilton, Ontario; Sedona Police Department Cmdr. Ron Wheeler, from Winnipeg, Manitoba; Harold Gorny, from Toronto; and Azami Ishihara, from Kingston, Ontario.

Azami at the grill.

The group gathers to eat and reminisce about Canada.

Zach Brutsche and Azami show off the Canada Day temporary tattoos she brought back from Alberta.

I got a temporary tattoo above my real tattoo.

Gov. Jan Brewer speaks in Sedona, defends immigration law SB 1070

By Christopher Fox Graham
Larson Newspapers

Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer used Sedona as a platform Thursday, July 1, to discuss the nationwide reaction to Senate Bill 1070, Arizona’s new immigration law.

Brewer said that the bill merely mirrors existing federal law. Passage of the bill was necessary to secure the Arizona-Mexico border, she said, because the federal immigration process is broken.

For the rest of the full story on the Sedona Red Rock News website, click here.

Photo by Tom Hood/Larson Newspapers

Thesaurus' extinction, eradication, expiration

I blame the Grammasaurus Rex for the Thesaurus' extinction.

The Loch Ness Monster vs Trolls: In Haiku

These were a series of haikus I used in a head-to-head death match against Tucson's Teresa Driver in October. Just found them.

I was assigned the Loch Ness Monster, she was assigned trolls. Enjoy.

Loch Ness Monster Haiku #1
Bring it on, you trolls
come to the shore and face
my Flippers of Doom


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #2
Monster of Loch Ness
rises from the deep to feed
tourists run screaming


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #3
They say I'm hiding
I'm just biding my time
2012 is near


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #4
Trolls carry spears, swords
and have to hunt in packs.
Bite, swallow, then nap.


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #5
At Moria mines,
even Hobbits fought the troll
but all flee from me


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #6
Dungeons & Dragons
has many troll editions.
But I need just one.


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #7
Fear trolls at nighttime.
In daylight, walk free. At sea,
you always fear me.


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #8
If troll comes for you
he must sneak in. If I come --
you can't hide. You're doomed.


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #9
The troll-free Bible
names both Leviathan and
Jonah's whale. Tremble!


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #10
"Jaws" "The Abyss" and
"It Came From the Black Lagoon"
Name a troll movie.


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #11
Captain Jack Sparrow
Spent three films running from me
What film do trolls have?


Loch Ness Monster Haiku #12
The Leviathan
even made Yahweh tremble.
Bible is troll-free

How big would the oil spill be near you?

If BP's Deepwater Horizon oil spill occurred in Sedona, this would be its current size.

How big would the oil spill be near you?

Oil Dealers and Deepwater, Part I

Part I – Oil Dealers*

drive the needle deeper
we need this to fuel us
drive it deeper
till it hits
suck it out like Mother Nature
was givin’ a blowjob
it hurts, yeah, but hurts more
when we don’t have none



used to have our own,
but never enough
I found some pure stuff
bought it cheap
right next door
who knew the neighbor was a dealer?
had to go under the water
not so easy and finding it in the dirt
but don’t matter none
once it goes in
you don’t think about where it came from



got it pure and cheap
got it from B.P.
always trust a Limey, I say
they talk like us and don’t do no wrong



drive the needle deeper
we need this to fuel us
drive it deeper
till it hits
suck it out like Mother Nature
was givin’ a blowjob
it hurts, yeah, but hurts more
when we don’t have none



we don’t trust the Saudi dealer anymore
he’s got too many issues
beats his wife for speaking out
little brothers always bitchin’
’bout how we smack ’em around
Saudi thinks we like him
but we won’t even know his name
if he didn’t have any



his crew don’t trust us none
last time we went there
one o’ them ragheads
left us with a bloody lip
knocked over a few towers in our neighborhood
but we done fucked him up good



we only go to the Saudi for this junk
when we’re desperate
— and when we’re armed, rollin’ with our boys
got to show ’em who’s boss
if you want a fair deal



had some homegrown
but it’s gone bunk
always need more
if we’re going to make it ride
and if it runs out
we still got the Saudi
he’s eager to deal
if he don’t sell to the Chinaman first
but if he do
we’ll just go back with bigger guns
bleed him dry till he’s done
maybe go visit the Chinaman
sure, he packs heat
and rides with his boys
but I think we can take him
We’re ’Mericans,
and we don’t take no shit
John Wayne wasn’t no pussy
we're bad motherfuck'rs



drive the needle deeper
we need this to fuel us
drive it deeper
till it hits
suck it out like Mother Nature
was givin’ a blowjob
it hurts, yeah, but hurts more
when we don’t have none



spill a little, no big deal
always more where this came from
if you lose control
let it flow, let it burn
give Mother Nature a facial
it hurts, yeah, but hurts more
when we don’t have none

*All BP satire logos from www.logomyway.com

Oil Dealers and Deepwater, Part II

Part II – Étouffée

the last thing he remembered
was her étouffée
the way shrimp and chicken
could fall apart in his mouth
the texture of onion,
the soft burn of the bell pepper,
the crunch of celery
for a moment
after the alarm sounded
after the shock of fear subsided in his spine
he was there again
in her Baton Rouge kitchen
surrounded by the smell of her labors

he had seen a blowout on another rig
everyone jumped to their posts
did their jobs
and when all was said and done
wounds were treated
scars healed
insurance wrote off the damage
and they thanked heaven no one got killed

for a moment
he flashed back to that rig
hoped it would repeat
and as the rumble rose
his eyes dimmed
the world fell away from focus
and he could taste her étouffée in his throat

the moment was too quick to prepare
he saw the faces of the men around him
he had seen them all today on the rig
they were 11 roughnecks who would go home
when the job was over
they were strangers before the rig
and they would be afterward
they were forgettable
and always wanted to be
for a roughneck,
to have one’s name known
means you’ve fucked up
you screwed the boss’s daughter
you carelessly killed a man
or you died on a rig

they were 11 men
whose names would be remembered:
Jason Anderson
Aaron Dale Burkeen
Donald Clark
Stephen Curtis
Gordon Jones
Roy Wyatt Kemp
Karl Klepping
Blair Manuel
Dewey Revette
Shane Roshto
Adam Weise
no longer forgettable

when it came
the rip roar of steel and crude
swallowed in a sun
the last thing he remembered
was her étouffée
the last thought
was the smell of Cajun cooking
the feel of her arms around him
as the bowels of the earth
those billions of animals
compressed into oil
buried for millions of years
saw the sky again
released the rage of imprisonment
ignited into fire
rose into the sky
carried his disintegrated memories
with them
rising like steam
from a cooking pan
of her étouffée

Christopher Fox Graham interviews Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer

Today, I met with and interviewed Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer at Los Abrigados Resort & Spa in Sedona.

Topics included border issues, Senate Bill 1070, and Arizona's financial crisis.

See the story in the Wednesday, July 7, issue of the Sedona Red Rock News.

Anthony Mazzella lies to Sedona

The lie: "Anthony Mazzella is a professional concert guitarist, recording artist and producer. BILLBOARD Magazine describes him as "the new generation of guitar hero" and GUITAR ONE magazine voted him "one of the top ten guitarists in the country".

This quote is false. While managing editor at Kudos, I contacted Billboard magazine when I first saw it to get the appropriate publication dates and issue number and the editor told me the quote is taken out of context. He asked that this fraudulent quote be corrected, or completely omitted.


I have backchannel notified Tony of the error, he ignored it, so I contacted venues when they sent in the erroneous quotes and most he removed the quote. He still sends it out, so I suppose it needs to be made public knowledge via this post.

We'd all like to make up quotes about how great we think we are, but it's not ethical and artists shouldn't let others do it either; it tarnishes our collective credibility.

The actual quote:

"Mazzella makes a convincing argument for inclusion among rock's new generation of guitar heroes with this striking instrumental interpretation of the U2 hit. He does an astonishing job in creating the energy and pace of a full band with only one guitar. His fingers move like lightening and with a precision that will boggle the mind. This well-known cut is an excellent introduction to "The Birth," a collection of vivid and intricately constructed original compositions."

--Larry Flick, Billboard Magazine

The entry appeared on the bottom of the fourth column of Page 66 of the May 3, 1997, edition. YOU CAN SEE THE PAGE HERE:

The statement, aside from being misquoted, truncates the quote, taking it completely out of context. It does not refer to him but a cover of a U2 song he played on an album.

It's from Billboard, so why tweak it? Because he thought no one would check? Or the fact that it's 10 years old and he hasn't gotten another review in a decade? Either way, Tony is lying to all his audiences and the business owners who book him.

As artists, it behooves us to be honest with our audience. This type of blatant deception on Tony's part disrespects the integrity of all artists.

If he posts a correction on his website and promises to remove the quote, I will take down this post.

Celebrate Canada Day at Posse Grounds in Sedona on Thursday, July 1

Celebrate Canadian culture and heritage with a potluck and barbecue at Posse Grounds Park on Canada Day, Thursday, July 1, from 5 to 8 p.m.

All Canadian-born Americans, Canadian expatriates, Canadian tourists, and friends and family in the Verde Valley are invited to participate. Everyone is welcome.

This is an outdoor family event with horseshoes, games and fun for everyone.

People are encouraged to bring things to share, including sports equipment, musical instruments, or a family pack of Timbits. Poutine is always welcome as well.

Due to Sedona’s liquor ordinance, this is an alcohol-free event, so don’t bring any 2-4s of Labatt. However, pop will be provided.

There will be a costume contest with prizes for the best-dressed Canadian clichés. Make sure to dig through your closet for your favorite hockey jerseys, lumberjack plaid, Canadian tuxedos and toques.

The organizers can’t wait to see everyone “oot” there, “eh?”

For more information, call Azami Ishihara at 517-1400.

Learn to write a press release that will publish

For people working in the arts, marketing, public relations or with nonprofit organizations, publicity is everything.

To help, the Sedona Visual Artists’ Coalition presents “The Art of Writing a Press Release,” a workshop taught by newspaper editor Christopher Fox Graham, from 1 to 4 p.m. on Saturday, June 26.

The fee is $10 for Sedona Visual Artists’ Coalition members, $15 for the general public. The workshop takes place at Keep Sedona Beautiful, 360 Brewer Road, Sedona.

Workshops taught by public relations professionals may focus on writing a press release, but as a professional newspaper editor, Graham approaches the topic from the other angle — representing the media professionals responsible for choosing which press releases to publish and where to place them in their publications.

Drafting an effective press release may seem an impossible skill to master. Press releases often lack key information, such as location, dates, costs or contact information. Others fail to provide sufficient background to be considered effective by the media outlets and news organizations that receive them.

Creating an effective, informative, yet brief and easy-to-read press release is often more art than skill. A good press release provides succinct details to inform newspaper or magazine readers, website users and radio listeners about news events, offering just enough information to pique readers’ interest in the topic without boring them.

Using real-world examples, Graham will demonstrate the differences between good and bad press releases; how to transform a bad release into a great one; what media professionals look for; mistakes that will get your press release thrown out and how to avoid them; how to write an eye-catching and informative press release; and how to deal with members of the media.

The workshop is designed for artists and musicians trying to promote their work, public relations and marketing professionals, nonprofit organizers and business owners.

Graham is currently assistant managing editor of Larson Newspapers, which publishes the Sedona Red Rock News, The Camp Verde Journal and the Cottonwood Journal Extra. His duties include receiving, prioritizing and editing press releases and assigning them to pages for publication.

Graham earned a bachelor’s degree in English with a focus on literature and linguistics and a minor in history from Arizona State University.

He has worked as senior copy editor for The State Press at ASU, copy editor for Larson Newspapers’ three publications, managing editor for Kudos and a private media consultant.

Graham is also a writer and performance poet. Over the last 10 years, he has toured and competed worldwide in poetry slams, a competitive art form that is focused as much on how the language is presented as on the content itself.

Workshop seating is limited. To reserve a seat, send a check for the correct amount to Jerry Buley, 659 Navahopi Road, Sedona, AZ, 86336.

For more information, Buley can be reached at 282-5499.

Where is Azami?

I love the Internet. I can track Azami's flight. She's somewhere over Joshua Tree, Calif., right now.

Sedona Summer Poetry Slam this Saturday, June 12 at Studio Live

A reminder about the Sedona Summer Poetry Slam, starting at 7:30 p.m., this Saturday, June 12, at Studio Live. Hosted by me, featuring The Klute, a hilarious political poet from Mesa. Tickets are cheaper this time around, only $5 if you order online at www.studiolivesedona.com It's Sedona in June. You know there's nothing better than enjoying some poetry to take your mind off the heat. Details: http://www.studiolivesedona.com/venue/calendar.html?event_id=238 Direct link for tickets: http://www.studiolivesedona.com/our-store/product-41.html

I Dream Too Much

I dream too much
hold slumber too late into the day
imagine too sincerely
that my dayvisions and night dreams
are more real than the tactile touch of skin on surface
in them, she moves with purpose
presses lips to soul
and swallows me in language
dreams, then, have meaning
and, I eagerly swallow them all

I find reason on weekdays
to labor to exhaustion
sleep as an infantryman in a foxhole
beneath the bombardment of career
so that when weekends bring their liberations
I can’t bear to rise until day is half done
on those days I can rewake and renap a dozen times
revisit her in new theatres
prior to the weight of the sunlight
pulling me from her, heavy in the gravity

before the last rise
when wherewithal is still foreign to my consciousness
I speak to her all the things I wish to say
if she were here
she hushes my lips with fingertips
strips off our clothes
and presses skin to skin to hold me
until we both open
two halves of a wound healing together

we breathe twice as deep
and hearts find each other
cleave arteries and veins into freshly spun spaghetti
and become Siamese twins of beating muscle
born from different mothers

I would hold there for days
if breezes and the spinning world
wouldn’t earthquake away

if catastrophe evicts me from flesh too soon
may some tornado lift me in Oz-brand ferocity
back to her open arms
and octopus rib cage,
pull me in close
bite spleen into lemon spleen
liver into apricot liver
pull hearts through aortas like handkerchief magic tricks
and swirl us into one shade of Play-doh
pliable for the ethereal children
who will next shape our formlessness

Get tickets now for Sedona's poetry slam on June 12

Top Arizona slam poet
headlines Sedona Summer Poetry Slam
on Saturday, June 12

The Sedona Summer Poetry Slam will explode at Studio Live at 7:30 p.m. Saturday, June 12, presenting three rounds of poetic competition as poets battle for pride and $100.

Between rounds, the audience will be entertained with a feature performance by the Klute, one of the country’s best slam poets and an Arizona artistic treasure.

The Klute, aka Bernard Schober, competed at the National Poetry Slam six times, for the Mesa Slam Team in 2002, 2003, 2005 and 2006, and the Phoenix Slam Slam Team in 2008 and 2009. He has led two of those teams to the NPS semi-final stage, ranking him among the best of the best nationwide. He was also the Mesa Grand Slam champion in 2005 and 2010.

In an era when most artists and poets shy away from confronting politics, the Klute stands apart.

He has earned a reputation for in-your-face political commentary and over-the-top humor targeting Neo-Conservative politicians, crass laissez-faire commercialism and Goth subculture.

Originally from south Florida, The Klute writes almost exclusively in free verse, making his poetry conversational and relevant to even those who see poetry as something to avoid.

Standing more than 6 feet tall and always bedecked in a black trench coat, the Klute is hard to miss. When poetry escapes his lips at full blast, he’s hard not to hear.

The Klute has released three poetry chapbooks, "Escape Velocity," "Look at What America Has Done to Me" and "My American Journey," which prompted a cease and desist order from the attorneys of former Secretary of State Colin Powell.

“Despite the heat, [The Klute] wears a black trench coat almost everywhere he goes and if the setting permits, he’ll blast through enough slanderous commentary to make Andrew Dice Clay blush,” according to Phoenix 944 Magazine. “Today, his addiction for getting in front of the microphone and spitting out everything from a Dick Cheney haiku to a long-winded prose on race car driving to the late Hunter S. Thompson is as strong as his love for vodka and absinthe. If anyone’s seen ‘The Klute’ in action, they’d know it. If they haven’t, they must.”

Expected to compete are Sedona Red Rock High School alumni Champion Max Boehm-Reifenkugel and Liana O’Boyle, several members of the FlagSlam Poetry Team, Kingman slam poet Mikel Weisser, Mesa Slam Team members Lauren Perry, Bill Campana, Tristan Marshall and Brit Shostak, Sedona poet Randy Warren.
and Tucson poets David "Doc" Luben and Mickey Randleman.

All poets are welcome to compete.

Slammers will need three original poems, each lasting no longer than three minutes. No props, costumes nor musical accompaniment are permitted.

The poets will be judged Olympics-style by five members of the audience selected at random at the beginning of the slam. The top poet at the end of the night wins $100.

Poets who want to compete should purchase a ticket in case the roster is filled before they arrive.

The slam will be hosted by Sedona poet Christopher Fox Graham, who represented Northern Arizona on the Flagstaff team at four National Poetry Slams between 2001 and 2006. He has hosted and competed in poetry slams and open mics in Sedona since 2004.

Graham has performed in 38 states, Toronto, Dublin, Ireland, and London, and wrote the now infamous “Peach” poem.

Founded in Chicago by construction worker and poet Marc “So What?” Smith in 1984, poetry slam is a competitive artistic sport. Poetry slam has become an international artistic sport, with more than 100 major poetry slams in the United States, Canada, Australia and Western Europe. Featuring almost 80 four-poet teams, the 21st annual National Poetry Slam takes place in Minneapolis, Minn., in August.

For more information or to register, call Graham at 928-517-1400 or e-mail to foxthepoet@yahoo.com.

Tickets are $5 online or $10 at the door.

Home of the Sedona Performers Guild nonprofit, Studio Live is located at 215 Coffee Pot Drive, West Sedona. For more information, visit www.studiolivesedona.com.

See video from previous poetry slams at www.YouTube.com/FoxThePoet.

For more information about the 2010 National Poetry Slam, visit www.poetryslam.com.

Spider in My Bathtub Poem

uncamouflaged at the basin of the bathtub
a spider deprived of two legs waits
it clamors along the curve
unable to climb more than an inch above the plain
no clawed foot can find purchase in the porcelain
the spider has circled he edge seven times
still searching for a changing circumference

I imagine it stumbled in the open window
explored the sill hunting moth or mosquito
then lost its grip in the wood
tumbled airborne then slid to a stop
and now finds itself in an unfamiliar prison

deciding its destiny,
I could flush it down the tub drain,
crush it with shoe or paper
cast it aside with the refuse
pick it up and swirl it down into the toilet
a hundred types of sadistic torments
or ignore its plight, but my roommate is terrified of spiders
instead, I a grab a cerulean cup
hold it upside down and chase the spider in the cage
it skirts around the tub, oblivious to my shadow,
fleeing from tapping fingers
the blue maw closes over
and the spider flees out the crevasse a dozen times
until I catch it on the flat wall
flip wrist and toss the spider to the bottom

trading white porcelain for blue plastic,
the spider appears more distraught,
as if it had fallen on worse times
a smaller cell with less hope
I tip it into the light
examine the details of the injuries
second leg left,
third leg right,
both severed at the hilt
where they lie buried
with what foe they rest
I can only conjecture
did it lose one in a climactic battle with a rival
sacrifice one to escape a songbird hunter
lose them both in the tragedy of a fallen branch
break one in the strain to escape from the tub
is one still clinging to the window sill
unable to hold its master safe from gravity

we march to the front door
and in the porchlight,
take one last look at each other
before I invert the cup above the vines
and it tumbles out,
again falling airborne
rolls off leaf and disappears into darkness

have I doomed some future beetle
sentenced a moth to die
in the jaws of a handicapped predator
or fed some larger spider hunting weakened prey
supplied a buffet to ants who’ll find it starving in the morning
where was its tomb to be before I found it
what destiny have I altered by glancing in the tub
while wondering what poem to write tonight

Darth Cheney Haiku

How did Dick Cheney
fire Rumsfeld? "You have failed
me for the last time"

Lost Lighter Haiku

You should quit smoking

to save hours not looking
for your lost lighters

She Begs for Poetry

from 3,000 miles away
she begs for poetry
— words swallowed deep in heavy stanzas
articulating how her absent arms
strip me bare despite cotton and self-delusion
— puns toying on lips of pop culture references
she doesn’t grasp without footnotes
— confessions flaying flesh from my bones
so she can see the man beneath this stone exterior
has a heartbeat instead of a CPU

she begs for poetry
but those written for previous lovers sound unfaithful
infidelity captured in verse
with other couples, a wayward glance ignites a riot
because the surface is what matters
with other couples, a night enveloped in strangers hips
instigates marital estrangement
because loins encapsulate intentions
for us, looks and skins are immaterial matters
it’s the words that carry weight,
the emancipation of verse from darkness
pulling verbs and nouns from thin air
to best articulate the rhythm of hearts caught in the moment
our wedding bands come in rhyming couplets

in pauses I can close my eyes and chart the road
GoogleEarth highway curves from my Arizona doorstep
over the interstates
past county gas stations
under Western skies
leap borders in migratory bird fashion
to find her hobo fingers grasping a payphone receiver
at the Civic Center in Prince George, British Columbia
where she hangs onto every syllable like scripture
remembers how the psalms of slam bring salvation

she is a pilgrim remembering home before the crusade
yearning for comforts of a familiar tongue
before the next day calls her to confront the infidels
whatever she believes them to be:
the civilized world armed beneath its new colonial flags
of corporate logos and AK-47s in the hands of children,
laissez-faire consumerism oblivious to strip mines and contaminated rivers,
or the suburban dream of white picket fences and police state insecurities,
— she plants trees to save the Earth one shovelful at a time
build a new world she wants to live in
painting the skies in banners of poetry
and I am an arrogant boy inflating his ego in this silly metaphor
when the truth is
she misses the home we’ve built here
she yearns to sleep in, beneath satin sheets
long after I have left for work
she aches for the shelter of my broken limbs
learning to trust in human touch
after so many years pushing it away
she craves to again tear me down to build me up
remanufacture me into a Lee Majors worth admiring
— and I’m certain I’ll have to explain who he is

she begs for poetry
anything my fingers have scribbled will do,
but I search for the poems I wrote to remember her
when I thought she left my chapters
before she returned for the sequel
with newly enhanced superpowers and a rebooted backstory

these words aren’t wholly mine,
they fluttered in anticipation of her arrival
so she’d know me as kindred
without having to try so hard
because I still mistake women’s advances
for an awkwardness to fill time
and stumble over my own intentions
without a screenplay to dictate the scenes
from “hello” to “please stay the night”

she begs for poetry
and I offer what I’m able
stretch my arms across this continent
fold our points together the way starships do
read poems that bring her back into my bed
when I would recite them before lights out
and we’d scoop stars by the shared spoonful
I give her the poems I have at my fingertips
until she returns to touch them with her own
I would cut open my brow again
and spill out poetry like a head wound
if it brought her home any faster
but patience is a virtue, they say
absence makes the heart grow fonder
all good things come to those who wait
and clichés pacify aching lovers
who quote them rather than go on killing sprees

she begs for poetry through my lips
I beg for her and the poems born on hers