Saturday, March 28, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
End piece of the poem
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
And of course, repetition is everything my heart says. And my heart says throw anything away that you procrastinate on. I am saying yes yes yes and no no no, and calling my sister in the early morning to tell her about my garlic throwing itself out of potting soil like heaven bound souls or the mighty bamboo.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Conversation on completing taxes
I call my father to tell him my amusement at reporting the 44 cents I received from Walmart stock this year, my amusement at owning any Walmart stock whatsoever. Stock still under custody of my father, and I am twenty-five.
I remind him that he gave me a gun for my sixteenth birthday.
He tells me that he has planted a garden. I exclaim, oh, your liberty garden! He tells me that he has hired a landscaper to plant a garden for him, and a plumber to create an automated sprinkler system.
Quothe he: I cannot possibly mess this up.
Quothe he: I just want to muck around in it.
He says that he is trapping raccoons all week, and freeing them far away from his liberty garden. I ask him, do you expect to catch them all?
He says, enough.
He had thirty people over for brunch this morning and he made grits: Not cheese grits, but brie grits.
I remind him that he gave me a gun for my sixteenth birthday.
He tells me that he has planted a garden. I exclaim, oh, your liberty garden! He tells me that he has hired a landscaper to plant a garden for him, and a plumber to create an automated sprinkler system.
Quothe he: I cannot possibly mess this up.
Quothe he: I just want to muck around in it.
He says that he is trapping raccoons all week, and freeing them far away from his liberty garden. I ask him, do you expect to catch them all?
He says, enough.
He had thirty people over for brunch this morning and he made grits: Not cheese grits, but brie grits.
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