Today begins the slide
the spiral
into the twilight season,
daylight whipping past
like sharp-edged petals in the wind.
Most of the leaves are
gone, exposing
winter's framework of branch
upon branch, bone
upon bone. The overgrown grass
blades tell stories to each other
in the dark, remembering summer's scatters
of light, long steaming days
and warm rains, pushing them higher
They are bent like old men,
waiting for frost.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Election's over. Coffee, please.
White mocha, shot of hazelnut, HELL YES whipped cream. $4.82. I bought fluffy coffee on the way to campus today. One reason for this is that my Comp 1 students are having an exam today, and I always reward myself with an overpriced beverage while they're taking their exam, because we all survived another unit of study.
I also wanted a post-election latte. It would up being a celebratory latte, since I did vote Obama. (If Romney had won, it would have been a consolation latte. It's all a matter of justification, folks.) I didn't stay up late last night to hear the election results; I crashed at 9:30 when my kids went to bed. I was pretty sure they'd be up when I woke up in the morning, and my getting eight hours of sleep wasn't going to change them. (I was right.) I rarely make political posts. I have my views, but I like to talk about other things instead. Poets are egocentric. So here's my one and only political post for this election year.
I, for one, am glad that the whiny bitchslapping that was the election--especially the last month of it--is over. In theory, the flood of recycling-bound glossies from both parties in my mailbox should be more or less through now. I'm sure our recycling man will appreciate that. I am glad Obama won, because I dislike Romney's Beemer-salesman mojo. And a lot of other things about him (okay, everything). My own views aside, what I also dislike is how election time brings out the worst in people, and I don't mean the candidates here (although that's true too).
So kudos to those who are neither gloating sanctimoniously nor bitching and grumbling this morning. To those trumpeting "I told you so, bitches!" all over every form of social media, to those being rude and rubbing victory in the face of those Facebook friends whom they know have differing opinions: let's dial it down, all right? He won. Mission accomplished. To those who react to the results with disappointment, kudos to the ones who are not dissing the opposite party with swear words, slurs, or other forms of verbal abuse. The rest of you, grow up. To those who didn't vote, and who are bitching about the election results: shut the hell up. You didn't vote, you don't have the right to squawk. Well, okay, actually you do, if you want to get Constitutional about it...but the rest of us who DID vote yesterday don't really want to hear it. To those who are, in short, being good winners/losers and being respectful of the other guy: GOOD FREAKIN' JOB!
I am all for voicing your opinion. However, there is a difference between voicing your opinion and being a jackass about it. The election brings out the jackass in people. Now that it's over, I am hoping that we can all put the inner jackass back in the pen and be nice again, at least until the 2016 Circus begins.
Political post over. Drinkin' my coffee now.
I also wanted a post-election latte. It would up being a celebratory latte, since I did vote Obama. (If Romney had won, it would have been a consolation latte. It's all a matter of justification, folks.) I didn't stay up late last night to hear the election results; I crashed at 9:30 when my kids went to bed. I was pretty sure they'd be up when I woke up in the morning, and my getting eight hours of sleep wasn't going to change them. (I was right.) I rarely make political posts. I have my views, but I like to talk about other things instead. Poets are egocentric. So here's my one and only political post for this election year.
I, for one, am glad that the whiny bitchslapping that was the election--especially the last month of it--is over. In theory, the flood of recycling-bound glossies from both parties in my mailbox should be more or less through now. I'm sure our recycling man will appreciate that. I am glad Obama won, because I dislike Romney's Beemer-salesman mojo. And a lot of other things about him (okay, everything). My own views aside, what I also dislike is how election time brings out the worst in people, and I don't mean the candidates here (although that's true too).
So kudos to those who are neither gloating sanctimoniously nor bitching and grumbling this morning. To those trumpeting "I told you so, bitches!" all over every form of social media, to those being rude and rubbing victory in the face of those Facebook friends whom they know have differing opinions: let's dial it down, all right? He won. Mission accomplished. To those who react to the results with disappointment, kudos to the ones who are not dissing the opposite party with swear words, slurs, or other forms of verbal abuse. The rest of you, grow up. To those who didn't vote, and who are bitching about the election results: shut the hell up. You didn't vote, you don't have the right to squawk. Well, okay, actually you do, if you want to get Constitutional about it...but the rest of us who DID vote yesterday don't really want to hear it. To those who are, in short, being good winners/losers and being respectful of the other guy: GOOD FREAKIN' JOB!
I am all for voicing your opinion. However, there is a difference between voicing your opinion and being a jackass about it. The election brings out the jackass in people. Now that it's over, I am hoping that we can all put the inner jackass back in the pen and be nice again, at least until the 2016 Circus begins.
Political post over. Drinkin' my coffee now.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
October Roses
Halloween's making me crazy and time-crunched, so I'm recycling again...I seem to write a lot of poems in/about the fall season for some reason...
October Roses
The stems keep only
faded green stars
unblinking in late light.
Hot pink petal witches melt,
staining the dirt. They scatter blessings
and kiss the foreheads
of the earthworms that hum
a baritone hymn, while the sun
skulks further south
each day, its chariot drawn
by corn-husk moths, escaping
towards solstice.
Observations, re: Halloween
I work in costuming full time. Right now, we're pretty busy, of course, with everyone and their grandmother and their grandmother's dog needing a costume for the Halloween holiday next week. Some of my observations, comments, and WTF moments from this season (so far):
1) Most improbable costume: Gigantic man comes in. He is over 6.5', built like a linebacker, bald on top with a huge bushy beard, tattoo sleeves on both arms, dressed in biker garb. What does he want to be for Halloween? Papa Smurf.
2) WTF Moment #1: Customer wants to be a Klansman for Halloween. As if that weren't WTF enough...oh, yes...he's black.
3) The sheer number of people who want to dress up at Katy Perry make me lose hope for the human race.
4) I have had seven requests for Big Bird (rented, folks--sorry!!), and I only have 1 Mitt Romney mask left. Barak Obama has not been selling as well. I am not sure if this is a good sign or a bad sign for the election results.
5) WTF Moment #2: Girl complains that slutty nurse costume is not short enough, and actually said, "I want people to be able to see my ass." ?????????????????????????????????
Back into the fray this afternoon...
1) Most improbable costume: Gigantic man comes in. He is over 6.5', built like a linebacker, bald on top with a huge bushy beard, tattoo sleeves on both arms, dressed in biker garb. What does he want to be for Halloween? Papa Smurf.
2) WTF Moment #1: Customer wants to be a Klansman for Halloween. As if that weren't WTF enough...oh, yes...he's black.
3) The sheer number of people who want to dress up at Katy Perry make me lose hope for the human race.
4) I have had seven requests for Big Bird (rented, folks--sorry!!), and I only have 1 Mitt Romney mask left. Barak Obama has not been selling as well. I am not sure if this is a good sign or a bad sign for the election results.
5) WTF Moment #2: Girl complains that slutty nurse costume is not short enough, and actually said, "I want people to be able to see my ass." ?????????????????????????????????
Back into the fray this afternoon...
Monday, October 8, 2012
Wendy's Flashback Fiction
Who'd have thought my "characters" from "Driving Thru" (meaning my former boss and co-worker) would get me a win? Won with this one last week on #MenageMonday at www.caramichaels.com. Woot!
“Chuck, explain this.”
“I knew you’d call. Which part?”
“Start with what I found when I opened today. What the hell happened on your shift last
night?”
“Steve, these freaks dressed as Vikings showed up in
drive-thru and wouldn’t leave! Twenty of
them! Big scary beards, leather clothes,
those horn hats—riding motorcycles!”
“Vikings? In the
suburbs, for God’s sake? ”
“YES!!”
“Charles, I don’t believe you. In twenty years as GM, I’ve never heard a
story THIS stupid from a closing manager.”
“But it’s true!
Steve, what can I do to convince you?
They ordered thirty-five triple baconburgers. When I told them there’d be a wait, they got
mean. Five or six of them pulled up and threw
bottles at the window. We locked
ourselves in the office!”
“And the side of the building? Also Vikings?”
“When they ran out of bottles, they got out spray paint!”
“It says ‘Fuck you, burger bitches.’”
“I know, right?!”
“And the dead squirrels out front?”
“Ritual sacrifice.
Oh, God, Steve, the squealing was blood-curdling!”
“Do I want to know who overturned the grease barrel?”
“Midgets.”
“I thought they were Vikings.”
“They had midgets with them.
On the bikes.”
“Chuck, you’re fired.”
It's fall, so I was thinking about this one yesterday on the drive back from my parents' place, seeing all the shorn fields and autumn colors. Love this time of year, but always feel sort of a wistful, "losing something" feeling in the fall as well.
Dirge After Harvest
Fields stretch:
stripes on a pheasant’s tail feather,
dusted sanguine and sepia.
Gravel crunches as I slow the car to a stop,
and I see my breath smoke.
Dusk thickens, glows, reddens.
Half-blind, I take heavy footsteps
over the frosted plow-furrows,
shins bumping shattered cornstalks.
I am tugged toward sunset.
A flicker of motion,
and a fox runs from my headlights,
urgent. I resist
the pull to follow it
into the broken maze of summer’s bones.
The sun strains at its pulley-ropes,
lowered by roughened hands.
An orange bucket drops
into the well of night.
I am drawn down with it—
searching for the sun’s circular ripples,
searching for water.
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