Sunday, February 13, 2011

Yearning for That Vernal Beau

What I remember most about United's 2004 MLS Cup win besides Dema's red card

is Christian Gomez's red in the 2005 playoffs at home for spitting on C.J. Brown.

I'm a killjoy, but I'm sure the best day in the political lives of the Egyptian celebrants was two days ago, I bet a thousand pints to one I'm right and hope I need pay off...

It was a stunning and encouraging and potentially pivotal event but remember, all thoughts in every capital now are directed not towards satisfying the protesters still in Tahrir Square but towards the best worse way to put Mubarak Jr back online and, much more importantly, preventing further Egypts now. Think what antenna are twitching and whose dungeons will soon be over-crowded. Perhaps the past three weeks in Egypt sparks an irrepressible movement, but it will need to be irrepressible because power won't not try to repress it again.

And forgive me, this is going to sound snarkier than it's meant, but I didn't find as much joy as many did because it wasn't mine: I contributed nothing more than compliantly paying my taxes and filling up my two cars twice a week with gas.

corydon & alexis, redux

D.A. Powell

and yet we think that song outlasts us all:  wrecked devotion
the wept face of desire, a kind of savage caring that reseeds itself and grows in clusters

oh, you who are young, consider how quickly the body deranges itself
how time, the cruel banker, forecloses us to snowdrifts white as god's own ribs

what else but to linger in the slight shade of those sapling branches
yearning for that vernal beau.   for don't birds covet the seeds of the honey locust
and doesn't the ewe have a nose for wet filaree and slender oats foraged in the meadow
kit foxes crave the blacktailed hare:  how this longing grabs me by the nape

guess I figured to be done with desire, if I could write it out
dispense with any evidence, the way one burns a pile of twigs and brush

what was his name? I'd ask myself, that guy with the sideburns and charming smile
the one I hoped that, as from a sip of hemlock, I'd expire with him on my tongue

silly poet, silly man:  thought I could master nature like a misguided preacher
as if banishing love is a fix.   as if the stars go out when we shut our sleepy eyes


  1. Strange game, where it's all referees and one player, and he gets the RED, eh? Those Egyptians and their strange "football" variants!

  2. Polly on that Autoharp is a bonus! Yesterday I was skiing with one of my friends who isn't a regular ski buddy, not someone I see regularly. He was asking whether I played any instruments, and I forgot all about my two great instrumental accomplishments from elementary school, the "recorder" and the "Autoharp." Both seemed like cheating because they basically made notes for you, so I never counted them. But good enough for Polly, eh?

  3. Another synchronicity: the only Aphex Twin I have is the Come to Daddy EP, and it has Flim on it, and I thought that was one of the better cuts on the EP. Good to see it here, I haven't listened to that EP for at least 5 years.

    Most of Aphex Twin I find too busy, and too metallic. Some of it I find funny, but only in a very cold way.

  4. Chuckie Krauthammer is a pretty crappy excuse for a human being

    But there's so many other worthy contenders...

  5. I let my Baseball Prospectus paid subscription lapse and was toying with whether to re-up. Reading Silver's post on the Huff-Po reminded me that I used to read BP because Silver is a great writer and the rest of them just don't interest me. I guess that just proves his point in another way and also shows that it's really hard to figure out why people love something, let alone generalize that into a scientific model.