sometimes, things go wrong

the mouse was trapped. first one hind foot in a livingroom trap,
trap dragged to the kitchen, neck snapped in another
there was no blood, a clean break. it's all any of us could hope for.
clean breaks, quick and painless endings that make you forget
the whole thing that set off the trap. the one slip of the hand.
the one moment of not being quick enough. loss of sly.
this whole mess is feeling like a slight of hand trick. magic mouse
is dead. the magic is dead.

good poem.

This is a poem by the poet Mary Jo Bang that I am enjoying very, very much right now.


Speech is Designed to Persuade

I

Here we are, my dear, so near we could touch
if touch were what was wanted. A pleasant event
accruing. A view into leaves will move the mind
back slightly. Dunderheaded hindrances.
They kept us apart. Is this what you meant
to have happened? I have taken up bad habits
in your absence. I have taken the tablets
you left on the dresser. I have dressed myself
in feathers fit for flight. I am flight but did not not melt
as some do when they try too hard to fly. A fraction
of four is only saying a small thing oddly.

II

Fine then, they said, let the tree be Knowledge. Let the leaf
be Nature. Let the dog take a name we give it--Pupper.
Let the string be knotted on its linear axis.
And now the sun comes up. The machinery hum
of a pheasant flutter. They were galled by the gift
of a clock, its inconsistent clatter. They looked over a book
of prints taken from frescoes, decorative specimens.
Smitten, relaxed, they took a shower, usuing only a cup
of water. Uppermost was bliss's peculiarity.
Six was a cipher, although didn't they eagerly agree
to let the numbers mean nothing?

III

Eventually the text began to explain itself.
Written out, the gode was easier to dechipher.
They devised a strategy, frequent division,
occasional subtraction. One fragment kissed another.
A sexual innuendo of sorts. Distance was not kind.
They understood the adage that omissions can be cruel
so a system of substitution was concocted. A three was used
to connote a blank space. A blanket was thrown
over the bed but only because it was very, very cold.
It was all in an evening's amusement.
All a moment's distraction.

IV

Now then, she said, come closer. He allowed her
so little. And she made do. That can be said in her favor.
She was his favorite. He said so.
She dragged her nails along the surface soundless.
No abominable chalkboard emanation. In the quiet,
a clock. A dog scratching resignedly at a door.
That night she dreamed she lived in a laundry
where everything came clean. She was all
she was going to mean. Let touch be a time-tested image.
Let speech be designed to persuade. Let fragments hold a space.
Let the bell for waking keep breaking in.

thing i want MOST

thing i want most right now:

I want to go to the beach. I want to walk along hot sand, collecting cool rocks, lucky glass, and shells. I want to lounge. I want to lounge in the sun. I want cold water, the smell of water. The smell doesn't need to be salty. The smell in my mind isn't salty air. The smell is just that of water. Of water weeds. Of wetness, and heat, and sun, and sand.
I want the beach right now SO hard.

do you make it clean or make it magic?

it's one of those mornings where, when i speak, you can't tell the difference between cherries and churches.

I have a lot of wants this morning. I want several more hours of sleep. I want cream in my coffee (but I ran out). I want ice cream or frozen yogurt. I want this stupid, stupid work task to be over with.

I want to be a happier person, but lately I feel like no matter what I do, it's not going to be a happy path that I have to follow. It feels a lot like doom. And I want to keep this to myself more, but I can't keep it in. And it's going here now.

magic mouse

there is a mouse in my house. his name is diego. he's a magic mouse. for two days straight, he's cleaned out the traps without setting a single one off. he must think i really like him, since i leave him dinner every night. the truth is, i'm hansel-ing him. he'll get nice and plump and then he won't be so quick on the traps anymore.

here is a thing i want:

to be a schnauzer foster parent. there is a schnauzer rescue based out of laurel, md, and they look for foster homes for dogs for 2 to 6 weeks. it'd be so nice to have a dog without HAVING a dog. it's like rent-a-schnauzer. i'm seriously considering it. i'll wait until erin is around to see how she feels about this, though.


here is another thing i want:

a comfy and very coordinated living room. a place that feels like MY home. i'm ready for it. i'm thinking that the way i want it is "nature themed" --lots of browns, greens, plant motifs. i have some kathleen lolley prints for the wall. i want some tree branch hooks for by the door. wicker trunk as a coffee table. lots of plants. lots of wood. yes?

when i was young, my parents had this really amazing piece of art, made out of a coppery material. it was in our living room when we lived on treehaven. it was a sculpture of leaves, birds, and bird houses. i always loved it. they sold it at a garage sale when i was in middle school, after we'd moved and they'd done a new "decorating" scheme. i wish we still had it somewhere, because it'd be perfect with what i want now for my house. funny how things "come around" again. the truth is, i think my parents have always been very stylish in a classic way--they have a knack for choosing things that will always look good, instead of trendy things. i hope that they've passed this on to me, too.

we're back, try two.

getting back into this is hard.

the new theme for this might be "things I want" and "theories" instead of "pizza." Maybe
"dreams," too. You've been warned.


Thing I want:

At least once every other week, I want to pick up some chinese take out on my way home from work, come home, put on pajamas and sit on the couch and read all night. nothing else. and not feel guilty about this.


Theory:

These might not be theories so much as "governing opinons." I observe a lot. I connect the dots, pull the strings together, and my opinion formed is my "theory" of the moment. I've got a lot of theories.

Tonight's theory is on getting lost. I don't get lost often. I generally have a sense of "how to get home from here" or "generally, I know where I am." I also feel like I often notice small details that others overlook. The giant spiderweb glinting in the sun between two tree branches. The chapstick, three legos, unopened tampon, two yeungling and one pbr cap in the dirt next to the sidewalk. The snake's tail barely poking out onto the trail. The turtle blending into the log as it suns itself. The wild strawberry. I see it all, even when I'm not looking. I think it's common sense, but that these two phenomena are related. I don't get lost because I'm always paying attention--even if I don't want to be. So no matter where I'm going I'm keeping track of each left and right turn, which way my shadown falls, and my mind is drawing a map, always.