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Archive for March, 2009

Friday Poem


The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter
by Ezra Pound

While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.

At fourteen I married My Lord you.
I never laughed, being bashful.
Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.

At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever and forever.
Why should I climb the look out?

At sixteen you departed,
You went into far Ku-to-yen, by the river of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.
The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.

You dragged your feet when you went out.
By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me. I grow older.
If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fu-Sa.

By Rihaku

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Protected: In which Rachel gets

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*sigh*

I received this around noon, today, as a text to my phone from a good friend:

“Sylvia Plath’s son offed himself. I thought of you”

Here it is, in the Times.

I am sad. And for the record – hanging oneself is quite a statement. It would not be my first choice.

I just want to scream fuck,  loudly.

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bragging rights

Soccer season has begun for Lina and the U8 girls team. We had two games this weekend, and while we lost both games (our practices kept getting canceled due to rain!), it became very apparent that Lina is one kick-ass goal keeper! She is so good that the other team’s coaches were shouting praises to her during the game.  I’m talking muddy-knees, stomped-on fingers and then smiles – fearless! There isn’t a ball that comes close to the penalty box that she doesn’t go after with her whole body. The coaches let her play goal for an entire half and had her in the game for all four quarters. Yes, I’m freaking bragging!!!!!! I haven’t seen any other goal keeper on any of the other teams, including ours, who plays the position anywhere near to how Lina plays it. Not even close! She’s ferocious.

I’m one proud mommy.

Also, this:

FAVORITE song right now. I could listen over and over and over and over and over. Makes me want to dance all over the house.

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Friday Poem

MEANWHILE, WITH EVERY THRUST
By Brooklyn Copeland

I call you the voice of a younger man.
Still, your years’ distance is apparent.
You treat me the way you want to be
treated, and the other pearls of quaintness.
You say sometimes it feels like we’ve
had sex when we haven’t. I tell you
something’s amiss; we are spliced
from breakfast to midnight snack.
Meanwhile, with every thrust,
the shingles. Like Buckminster Fuller,
you seem to be a verb. You don’t frown but
look longingly at falling to its knees for me.
Your voice is so soft, but it never begs,
never instructs. There is urgency only.
You merely dim yourself, like you dim
the lights, like you blow over
a cup of tea. I know I already told you,
but this is the first time I’ve really told you.
This abandoned house, like a cold
hotel room, turns me on.

-from Borrowed House, greying ghost press

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Nervous

so, I had to have a “deep scale cleaning” done at my dentist’s office yesterday – this required novacaine, numerous shots! The first shots didn’t work well so they had to pump more novacaine into my mouth. Now, 24 hours later, I still have limited jaw movement and a sore jaw. I’m nervous as all hell. I called the dental office and they said that if it persists past today to call them tomorrow morning.

I have my handy-dandy heating pad on my face in the meantime. And of course, I think the worst: the muscles in my face are now permanently damaged due to the copious amounts of novacaine. How will I ever kiss the same.

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I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned this before, but just in case I haven’t – I love Katt Williams.

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