30 October 2010
29 October 2010
Time seems to be running at full brisk these baby days. What's the hurry? I look around and spy elegance and debris. Luck. "You're a lucky bastard," I tell myself, and kick a tin can into the river, watch it malinger in eddies before dropping down into shoals I can faintly detect.
27 October 2010
High winds persist. And today I took four more ripe red tomatoes off the vine - probably our last tomatoes of the season (a freeze is expected later this week). What a strange thing to still be eating vine-ripe tomatoes in October! (By Janelle's count our five or so plants have exacted 80+ fruits over the past few months.) And as I type this the gourds outside sway violently in the gale...
26 October 2010
Dear Thelonius, I was up at five this morning eating toast and writing down my dreams while cold rains swept across the region. I thought about the African-American church and how I once read that your sound was a gospel sound. Then a memory: my grandmother halfing a stick of gum and silently handing it to me while the pastor rained down his hellfire.
24 October 2010
"Krishna is the source of the oversoul of the world, Vishnu, and from him countless manifestations of divinity descend, ministering in every species of life...Unbound by time & space, the avataras appear in time and within space. They develop within our frame of reference for the purpose of delivering us from its limitations. Such is the grace of God and his devotees in their eternal play."
Early this morning while most of AmericaTown, U.S.A. was deep in its R.E.M., I was up, coffee, grokking bentback Harper's, in half-lotus by our pre-historical clawfoot tub while a bathing Eleanor waged riots between plastic facsimiles of large amphibians now extinct - & every now and then the mighty RAR! of an uppity-ass sauropod.
23 October 2010
Two weeks ago I took our scooter in for a repair. The folks at the Honda place did some diagnostics and listed all the things wrong with it via one very depressing voicemail. I called them back and asked if it was worth making the costly repairs. "I wouldn't," said the voice on the other end of the phone, "I mean, not if it was me."
Later, I stopped by and haggled with them. World's worst haggling, in fact. What they agreed to, in exchange for keeping the scooter for spare parts, was to shave a cool $50 off the purchase of a new scooter or motorcycle. "I'll be back next spring," I said, and had Janelle drop off the title later on. And so - fifty dollars of store credit later - the deal was done. And that was sad. Truly.
But you know what's weird? Now, all I can do is fantasize about getting a real bike - and this is something I never thought I would do (not since I was a dirtbike-obsessed pre-teen, anyway). So, now the gleaming Honda Rebel has become my Girl With The Golden Hair. And I'm sure this all has something to do with Dennis Hopper dropping off and my own Thanatos-urge and, of course, the classic up-sale by the boys at Honda. But I'm of a mind that we sometimes need our illusions. And, as Axl Rose reminds us, that we can even make use of them.
20 October 2010
Once, in 1974, a wild-eyed man wearing a doomsday sandwich board in Times Square passed me handbill all about the Satanic illuminati, looming End Times, and purported microchips that will be embedded in every citizen's skin by the Powers That Be in the not-so-far-off future. "This is paranoia," I thought, cranking up my hubris. Shortly thereafter began the final days. And the UPC symbol became the new face of god.
19 October 2010
18 October 2010
Soon I will get it together in my heart.
Soon ballistics by no one, emptiness itself.
Soon the moon blesses every street kid, punk, mendicant, lost child.
Soon the old men turn loose of the reins.
Soon all angels reborn no more into Pure Land.
Soon a cure for the common violence.
Soon vegetation for the people.
Soon the animal spirit is resurrected in human flesh.
Soon the word liberated, mind fleur-ing.
Soon the cancer will eat itself.
Soon the galaxy bangs back in rhythm to soon, holy NOW.
Soon we remember everything we've been forgetting.
Soon no more death dance on the women & children of Earth.
Soon blue sky adamantine, a pine tree breathing.
Soon I will get it together in & out of my human heart.
17 October 2010
15 October 2010
This is one of the four birdhouse gourds growing on our property. It hangs from a vine that tendrils up into the birch tree by our back door. Vines that blanket our yard. Vines from seeds five or more years old - I plucked them from a moldy Ziploc! My great uncle Ben had given them to me way back when I was finishing up at Naropa and starting life once again as a Southern gentleman. Back in Athens. Working on the psychiatric unit. I never could get gourds to grow - and I tried all the various methods. Here, now, in Iowa dirt, they have occurred. And may Mother Earth take care of the ones I love...
14 October 2010
13 October 2010
12 October 2010
11 October 2010
10 October 2010
This one floret comprises our annual broccoli yield. We ate it today in a lyonnaise omelet. And I don't know...maybe it was projection...but it tasted four-dimensionally awesome. Even better was to be joined by our friend (and doula during Eleanor's birth) Amy.
09 October 2010
08 October 2010
by the dam two old riveters
sat on the tailgate of a blue pickup
torches and acetylene surrendered
leaves & acorns blowing down around them
& with naked hands loosened knots
in bread sacks removed sandwiches
prepared in kitchens of early morning /
the river passed over concrete and steel
and they ate slowly few words between them
as goslings slept on the bank
heads tucked down against the wind
07 October 2010
06 October 2010
Buddy Holly married Maria Elena Santiago, a receptionist for Peer-Southern music, at the age of twenty-two. He was a Southern Baptist hayseed just beginning his ascent into the god realm of rock n' roll. She was a Puerto Rican angel. He asked for her hand in marriage on their first date. Eight months later, his plane went down in a frigid-ass northern Iowa cornfield. Maria was two weeks pregnant with his baby. (She later miscarried.)
03 October 2010
You can make an incense burner out of an orange peel if you want to.
02 October 2010
After a long, sleepless (new baby-inspired) night, early this morning I dug up an old VHS tape of Ren & Stimpy episodes to help ease the sting of Extreme Parenting. (Its reception was mixed, too. Even after repeated explanations, Eleanor just couldn't understand what Ren was or why he was so mad, like, in general.)