Sunrise

So this is what 2010 feels like. Huh. When I was twelve, I figured by now we'd all be using hoverboards for transportation and eating every meal in pill form. Not so much, though - still using these tired ol' feet n' grinders...but whatevski, I made it, and have procreated to boot. (Little One's currently fast asleep, with "Rose Connely" lyrics in her head.) And so, what's this decade all about? Famine? Boredom? Increased simplicity? Relative ease? I've no idea. All I know is that the playgrounds have turned to plastic and Jack White is on a creative rampage. (He is, in all likelihood, our generation's Lou Reed, ya dig? Sho-nuff...maybe even our Dylan, which is an idea that's sad to pound out, since this decade will probably see the end of Dylan and Leonard Cohen and Van Morrison alike ...Jesus. Here we are...and what hath God wrought? The "meat wheel" spins us all...) Anyway, today I am filled with gratitude, which, according to Anne Carson, flows through me like a sieve, along its way to wherever, same as time and alcohol and what you will. Gratitude, because it's all so fleeting. Yesterday, I was 18 and full of Thrasher. Today I'm thinking about acreage and the poetry of kinetics. Nothing changes, really, except for the corn, all proud in its sheath to die & rebirth.