Friday, December 31, 2004

come again some other day...

plink. plink. plonk.


plink. plink. plonk.

all night that little space which had recently been mended was brutalized by storm water. various glass contraptions and one enamaled one caught the leaks. meanwhile, sleep was hard to come by.

i finished a sock i was working on. that was nice. but i decided to rip back another one and rework it. rather ambitious considering the hour and the pounding eye-strain-induced headache.

if i didn't know the intricacies, subtleties, and pace of a rainstorm before, i certainly have a handle on them now. like being underwater. like being on a ship. storms are one of my favorite things. i enjoy them better from a dry roost, however.

driving to town yesterday the creeks looked like something from starbucks. churned. foamed. they are probably equivalent in taste, as well. probably. i speculate.

a heron in the marsh. i'll marry you, crane-y dear. a little norstein enters my day via real life creature. real mist. she wasn't wearing pearls, though.

the gate at the corner of the house flagellating in the dark. splintery old. splintery old. all vigor and zeal. a whole lot of powerful noise. unlatched.

and wind. chilling. a weeper combing the ditches. searching.

the rain isn't raining just now. it's hanging up there waiting. craggy chandelier that lightens after dark.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004


so terrible. the overseas brother lives in taiwan. the headlines were very vague at first. gave me panic. but brother is fine. so many are not. i can't believe the death toll.

half expect everything to pause. a moment where colossal grief is the wave. the world taking note. but it doesn't unfurl like that. coffee sellers sell. cooks cook. occupiers occupy.

a toe stubbed.

Monday, December 27, 2004


it's raining here. according to the witchery of weather forecasting service, it will continue to rain for five more days. i'll fashion a stripey shirt and pole around town. the alleys are already full of cold water.

the sister gifted me with a copy of "the umbrellas of cherbourg" for christmas. that was very thoughtful. you see, in my vinyl collection i have an lp of the film. it's in near mint condition. the dialogue (in both french and english) is included in the sleeve. i thought it was destroyed when, unbeknownst to us, the roof leaked into the closet where my crates of records are kept. i fretted. yessir. but the record is fine. anyway, i don't have a turntable at present so i can't listen to any of my records. i was lamenting the fact. the sister took note. and then this very thoughtful gift. only, my equally thoughtful mother sent me the same gift! twice the color. twice the love. twice the sadness. clearly, one of these must go. nobody can withstand so much cherbourg.

tonight we managed to coax lola into the rain. really, it didn't take much coaxing at all. she loved it! but why doesn't she love a bath? hmm.

when i was in new brunswick a year or so ago, i happened to see a few minutes of a wonderful animated film. there was a ballerina dancing on a ship. it was really beautiful. it was nearly time to check out of our room, so i didn't get to see the end or read any of the credits (which is just as well because it seems the film was russian and i don't speak russian and can't make out cyrillic...snarf!). but i happened to find the film (ballerina on the boat) on amazon in a collection of russian animated films. enter christmas gift number two. i think i love yuri norstein. the collection has four of his films. he has a wonderful sense of humor. and the animation is fantastic. watching these makes me wish i had some talent as a visual artist. i don't.

i'm about ready for another sojourn. churchill and polar bears? orcas island? cumberland island? or someplace far off the continent? i don't know. maybe this summer.

the sister continues to sing "the old triangle." therefore, i continue to sing "the old triangle." it's catchy in its way.

the screws were shouting,
'get up out of bed ,you, and clean out your cell!'

not the jolliest song ever. but the tune is purty.

wellidy. must to knit the things on my needles.

(and i'm not willing to proofread...please continue to visit.)

Saturday, December 25, 2004


so. very. sleepy.

need to sleep before santa fills the room with crazy purple knock out gas.

how did i agree to cook all of this food? gah!

should not be cooking at this hour. and to think there will be hours more of cooking tomorrow. grumble. today, i mean.

but eating the food will be swell. and watching them eat will be swell. and watching them wash dishes will be best.


Friday, December 24, 2004


just now it arrived in my paw. little four cornered happiness from afar. i bet if i set it down it will tremble and skip. or maybe that's me.

so wee. and happy! three times happy, as a matter of fact. and that is a perfect trinity. and it fits snugly in the coat pocket. and it nestles in the palm. and its face has something like roses. and the back is affirmative. yeah.

it has a pulse and tissue. nerves. it tingles.

happy origins. a tree grows there. i am so glad of it. so, so glad.

and thank you, she says. thank you.

in other news...

eclipse. eclipse. eclipse. what other news? oh yes, it's christmas eve! and do you know what that means? it means very soon i will be able to walk the streets without fear of molestation by electrified skiing snowbeasts! huzzah!

ho ho ho...

happy christmas. if you're into that...

happy day, if you're not.

the sister just informed me that brendan behan met james thurber at the algonquin and they became friends. i wonder what that was like. not becoming friends. the duo specifically.

aye aye aye. i'm going to ride a halibut to the country. not really. halibut are very unpredictable.

nota bene...

terrible that they raise all alone. involuntarily. little hair along the neck and littler, littler down the shoulders. subzero. sweetheart. silent slack. surfeit should not exist alongside sugar. the s has an independent swagger. so long, sexy s.

christmas eve eve.


the visible clipping says: you know the sofa you were interested in? someone else is asking about it, so if you want it you'd better....

on the shelf there are kraft paper envelopes. sturdy. brown. oh, fucking sturdy brown envelopes, you're a sight for eyesores.

let me have a lie down. unreel. so so so. g*$sssss*$#&!!***. asterisk short a footnote. a promise that doesn't come together.


Wednesday, December 22, 2004

the power of christ compels you...

on h street, near the church, a small, unwholesome creature emerged from hedges. a chihuahua. i have nothing against that particular breed. when i was younger we had one (went by the name of cujo...i didn't name him). but being ambushed by a small black chihuahua late at night is something akin to walking into a sixteenth century woodblock print and encountering devilish minions. yip! yip! let me suck your everlasting souls! i stomped my feet and made threatening noises. nothing doing. he was set on sucking my immortal soul. the sister was braver and took to lobbing bits of railroad ballast. not at the little guy but near enough to give him a fright. success!

i think i harbor many ill notions concerning the chihuahua because of my experience with our former family pet. he had the very disconcerting habit of lifting his ass end over his disproportionately large head and walking around on his forelegs. yes. he did a creepy headstand walk all around the house. now tell me that doesn't sound like demonic possession.

willie frequently walks on his hind legs. that motion is unendingly adorable, however. he places one paw atop the other and pleads for treats. cute. is there any rational reason that i should favor the hind-legged ambling to the fore-legged one? errrm. can't think of any.

all the way home we worried for the little monster. thought perhaps we should have tried to guide him home. but since i had my own hounds with me, and since it was relatively clear that our chihuahuan friend was wanting a doggy rumble, we were in no position to be guiding him anywhere.

el fin.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

with arsenic saaaaauuuce...

lola is a quirky gal. when encouraged not to walk on things that might harm her tender paws, she consistently defies any and all cajoling. tonight she was in top form. broken glass in the street. stubborn dog trying her damnedest to walk through it. later, we noticed the sheriff cruising the town with his spotlights wobbling about. we strictly avoided him. but as luck would have it he drove past us. then again, making quite an effort to be within shouting distance of us.

sheriff: have you girls seen anyone with a stolen christmas tree?
us: no.
sheriff: it was decorated.
me: i saw broken glass back that way.
sheriff: on such-and-such street?
me: i thought it was on such-and-such street.
sister: no, he's right.
me: okay.
sister: what sort of car were they in?
sheriff: (laughing) no car. they were dragging it.
us: what?
sheriff: yeah. they're on foot. walking.
sister: oh, here comes a car.
sheriff: okay, well, if you see anything....(driving off)

the first thing i thought when he asked if we'd seen a stolen tree was how the hell should i know? what exactly was i looking for? two guys in buster browns, wearing stripes and dangling swag bags? the grinch? but i suppose someone dragging a fully decorated tree along an otherwise empty street would be rather conspicuous. i guess that's why our local constabulary was making such crack headway with the case.

errm. ahem.


i had to sit near the television just now. had to help s.b. with the scarf he is knitting. and who should grace the screen? yes, the husk. as he was giving us his sad face and apologies for mosul deaths he says, "...when we lose a loss of life...." it was a keeper, i tells ya. i believe i'll start collecting. is he speaking in riddles? if so, i'm feeling terribly inadequate.

Monday, December 20, 2004


i wish i knew how...

your eyes are like starlight now...

to break the spell...

listening to ray charles and betty carter. it's the only version of "baby, it's cold outside" that i enjoy.

there isn't any snow outside. it is cold, though.

people at the market in an absolute frenzy over the sale priced hams. HAMS. i feel like i don't know the latest dance steps. i just stand and watch. they stretch at the bar. hydraulics and thrusting. lots of elbows flying. rattling carts. confirms my feeling that supermarkets are creepy. and i always miss the bulletins. hams.

think of my lifelong sorrow...

ray. oh ray. he's been reading of coy mistresses.

baby, don't hold out...

four red-headed women in the supermarket. none of them, apparently, related. at least by blood. that's quite a concentration of redheads. i didn't factor in my own head. i don't know if it quite qualifies as red. it leans that way, though.

hmm. the file says: angles we have heard on high. i wonder which particular i'm hearing now? obtuse? dunno.

now ella sings let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!

no snow just yet. no ham. but a turkey in the icebox. duets. carols. a dog on repeat outside.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

wee archaeology...

cotton-wooled my ears for the afternoon's employment: sanding. palm sander. face mask. is that what surgeons feel like? a steady hand is steadily hard to come by. flurries of pink dust. hands that feel like they've gripped a train seat for the better part of a day. a bell hum in the joints.

someone left the chairs by the roadside. free. they're child-sized school chairs. 1960's. maybe 1970's. but i am small enough that i sit comfortably. there are two of them and only one of me (thank heavens). my visitors will find the spare too, too spare, i think. maybe adequate as a footstool. maybe it's a good to sit at the foot of someone come visiting. think on it.

yes. i believe so.

boiled linseed oil. hot coffee atop the sawhorse. refinishing. again finishing. they were distressed and i could have left them. pink tweeded. birch fleck. opted for this other. uncovering. how many small impressionable humans parked haunches there? how many questions? and recovering. a fold and a palm stroked over.

hmm. i go.

Friday, December 17, 2004

see here...

if i place my body between the monitor and the room things get darker. and the tree over there glows with white light. i like it. i'm sappy like that. if we can't be impressed by beautiful lights now and then....

the sweater that followed me home is too large. i neglected to notice it is a manly man sweater. but it was grey and fuzzy so i overlooked much. i tried to shrink it. to no avail. 's okay, though. i still enjoy it. cashmere. yeeerrrrssss.

had cod for supper. it is tasty. how white. it had a good scare? i don't know. what ever possessed the first taster? it came of necessity, surely. this long blanched flesh like giant dog-ends of eraser. not so tempting. screwing the eyes helps.

eleven o'clock and all's well. closing up shop now. to bed.


high-powered out of the gates. coffee-nated. i'd prefer a more pacific take.

nearly two now and yet to have the mail in my paw. gah! it's really quite okay. mostly flyers and adverts for things i don't need. and candied ham. they're big on pushing the candied ham these last few weeks. i do not approve.

replaying the silly joke s.b. planted on me. teepee. wigwam. teepee. wigwam. ah, i see (says the analyst) you're two tents. and it was a bad joke. and i laughed very hard. i'm laughing now. quietly.

a switch of gum tree is in the jar in there. pink flowered. silver leaved. it's beautiful. i stole it. look out!

Wednesday, December 15, 2004


this morning, before dawn, big winds buffeted the car. what crossed our path resembled animals because of it. leaves leaping from ditches.

venus was very bright in the gum trees' tops. nothing was awake yet. or nothing was open. we sat by the coffee machine. it used to be 35 cents for a wee shot glass o' coffee. now the same for 75. the sign says: nescafe-- coffee with an accent. yes. two accents. two by two accents. i don't know.

pepsi-- soda with an i at the end.


pepsi-- it starts with pep.

get book learnin' with that sucrose.

a swath of crows from one horizon to the other. the largest murder i've ever witnessed. and very noisy. maybe it was a kindness.

a hawk limned up in the branches, too. just black.

later, the cashmere sweater, the pepper mill and his corpulent, salt cellar companion, and the vintage desk/wall mount pencil sharpener (ticonderoga, ticonderoga...) followed me home. less than five dollars.

tonight's walk featured the return of the frantic, skiing snowman. skiing snowman. i'll have to think on it.

oh, and he was wearing a scarf. a red one. i'll have to think on that, also.

now to make something sweet for good luck. make sweetness. just the right amount.


Tuesday, December 14, 2004


i was afraid the door might fly open as we drove.

me: is your door locked?
sister: yeah.
me: door locked. door locked. dooooorlock.
sister: doorlock. warlock.
me: things sound tougher, more metal, when they end in lock.
sister: matlock?
me: no...not him.

today i'm fascinated by the n0nsense quality of certain words when repeated. milk was my favorite when i was wee. roll the l and it begins to lose its shape. my father confessed his was only. and he began to spell it olny. sister's is of.

Monday, December 13, 2004


this evening's walk--minus the frenzied articulated snowman that haunts the corner--had us dodging prowling autos. lights. they're having display-offs out there. more is more. they keep mounting. do they have shingles? no longer. the rafters are lights. timbered in lights. even the lights have lights. the cars have lights. the sheds have lights. like passing through a lantern fish forest.


the past 48 hours i've been a one woman cookie factory, not because i'm especially jolly (i need a game of pit perhaps?), and not because i'm particularly festive. i just like cookies. and the others like cookies, too. and they demand them. sacrificial gingermen. after the drinking of gloogaloog, or similarly spiced and heated wine beverages, we make oblation of the humanoid biscuits. also, i hear it is custom in certain european places to make at least 12 sorts of yuletide cookies lest something vague and unfortunate should occur. if there's one thing that gives me the shivers, it's the vague and unfortunate. so, i have made the gingermen. i have made speculoos (i made them with almonds, however unorthodox it may be). tonight, i begin constructing one of my all time favorite sorts of cookie: benne crisps. after that i think i'll start in on the lime melt-aways. and after that i'll lapse into a sugar induced stupor...or possibly ransack a small village. no. luckily, i haven't been allowed to eat many of the cookies i've produced. i have the unquenchable sweet-tooths of two strapping young guys to thank for that.

what has this to do with poetry? not so much.

also, we've been gifted with a moderate-sized crate of grapefruit. bee-yoo-tiful grapefruit. and they're tasty as all get out.

Friday, December 10, 2004


funny thing about living in the house which belonged to my late grandparents, there're all manner of interesting finds. tonight's desk drawer discovery: pit-- the greatest of all party games. gather round and i'll elucidate. rather, i'll sample directly from the 1919 edition rules sheet:

the greatest of all party games


copyright, 1919, by parker brothers, inc.

as many as seven people can play at one time, any age from 5 to 100!

"PIT" is pure, harmless, exciting, unadulterated fun

the great new card game


learned in two minutes

the jolliest game ever invented for an informal good time

IDEA OF THE GAME. the game is based on the exciting scenes of the american corn exchange, usually styled the "wheat pit."

...REMEMBER, from the moment the bell strikes all players must begin to trade. there is no waiting for turn. get at it immediately! players all at once. such are the manners of the wheat pit. the more rapidly the trading proceeds, in fact the greater the babel...the more ludicrous the excitement.

* * * * *

the more ludicrous the excitement, i say! tonight i've cornered the wry market.

errrm. yes.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004


thai food made better by the orange of tiger lily. i tried for a photo. what do you think happened? you have three guesses. and just so you guess right, i'll tell you: i cropped the lily's head. methinks i need glasses.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

i have a subterranean charm...

i really shouldn't be allowed to watch la femme nikita. no. because i cry. and that's silly. isn't it? at the very least, i shouldn't be allowed to watch it more than once in a single year. and i shouldn't be allowed to quote it without very good reason.

in other news, a letter from a friend arrived in my inbox and had a profound effect. we should write letters more often. all of us. it somehow makes up for so much.

i really wish christmas didn't begin in october, because i'm already getting worn out. children dream of a prolonged christmas season. apparently, retailers do, too. and they have the clout and finances to make the rest of us live their unholy vision.

today a tree squirrel and a red-shouldered hawk had a stand-off on the neighbor's fence. i don't know who won. but i put my money on the squirrel. they're wiley.

i'm off. thai dinner and chit-chat with the newly returned pal.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

the blushery...

if i said directly. if i said "beware of this and that" and meant it. it's still a long leap. buttered ciphering. good luck. because what i said was a long leap was not the leap you were inspecting. you looked in my mouth. eyed siphoning. if i said up and you looked up it is coincidence. i'm not even a magician. i just liked the run. the sound. the saying. sincerely.

Saturday, December 04, 2004

bon temps...

cajun dinner. english waitress. i guessed welsh. but no. the collards were tasty. the rum sauce was rummy. i'm waiting for the hiccups to expel cartoon bubbles. zero hot sauce fatalities.

Thursday, December 02, 2004


tonight at boo-boo record i discovered tussle. i will return and make them mine. oh yes.

today is the sister's b-day. hmm. it seems just yesterday we were arguing about the merits of certain my little pony critters. come to think of it, it may actually have been yesterday.

Wednesday, December 01, 2004


truly, they had a love of sausage. i've never seen a place so bedecked in meat and meat by-products. no carbs! and was that girl putting a wurst in her handbag? she needs a bigger handbag. something's gotta give.