Wednesday, November 23, 2011

I Wish What I Wished You Before, But Harder

Please be warned and forgive me, I'm in a good mood, had a wonderful dinner last night with Landru and Ilse and my daughter

in which history was made!

One of BFF's favorite stories to tell on me is that, years ago--Planet remembers it as being at a Maryland-Duke womens' basketball game, which puts her at about age 12 or 13--I was so deeply disturbed by Planet's stability, equanimity, poise, grace, and general goody-twoshoesedness that I offered her twenty bucks if she'd say "fuck," just once. She's faithfully refused ever since. Until tonight. A mere three months in the bower of liberal academia has changed our darling Planet profoundly. It'd make your head spin, how fast the little pottymouth said, "Baby needs a new pair of fuckin' shoes."

Mind, what happened was she had been talking about assholes running around drunk in the dorm at three in the morning at college, and I said, she's cursing now, I'm so proud, and Landru then took out the $20 bill. The conversation had turned to a need for winter shoes. She didn't remember the dare at first, so as Landru sat there tapping the $20 bill, behind his back I made eye-contact with Planet, glanced at the tapping hand on the bill, mouthed "fucking shoes," and - BANGO! - she connected, didn't hesitate saying the word or taking the money. Love. All around.

Mind, my favorite story to tell on Landru is that he was the first human not a doctor, not a nurse, not Earthgirl or me, to hold Planet. So, sorry, good mood, there's aargh in the links, but it's not heartfelt aargh, my apologies.

  • Earthgirl couldn't join us as she prepares for her show. See above.
  • Also, it's the slowest week of the year in Blegsylvania.
  • More of this, please. A bud tells me somethings astir for Dec 2, not Franklin probably (he doesn't know specifics yet, says still in planning), but something.
  • Why are you murdering yourselves?
  • Body politics.
  • Follow the argument.
  • Our Occupiers.
  • What now?
  • You will be in danger the rest of our lives.
  • Awesome motherfuckery (Young, not Fish). 
  • Ritual.
  • Things you might have missed.
  • Keys' signage
  • First Thanksgiving.
  • Home After Three Months Away.
  • And that's pretty much it, getaway Wednesday starting Tuesday, dying Blegsylvania shutting down early the slowest week. Bleggalgazing tomorrow, the slowest day of the year in Blegsylvania, or not.
  • O! woke up with this in my head. Be in yours.
  • O! When I think of the below, I think of the below below.


Richard Wilbur

In her room at the prow of the house
Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story.

I pause in the stairwell, hearing
From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys
Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

Young as she is, the stuff
Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:
I wish her a lucky passage.

But now it is she who pauses,
As if to reject my thought and its easy figure.
A stillness greatens, in which

The whole house seems to be thinking,
And then she is at it again with a bunched clamor
Of strokes, and again is silent.

I remember the dazed starling
Which was trapped in that very room, two years ago;
How we stole in, lifted a sash

And retreated, not to affright it;
And how for a helpless hour, through the crack of the door,
We watched the sleek, wild, dark

And iridescent creature
Batter against the brilliance, drop like a glove
To the hard floor, or the desk-top,

And wait then, humped and bloody,
For the wits to try it again; and how our spirits
Rose when, suddenly sure,

It lifted off from a chair-back, 
Beating a smooth course for the right window
And clearing the sill of the world.

It is always a matter, my darling,
Of life or death, as I had forgotten.  I wish
What I wished you before, but harder.


  1. I call bullshit. Your favorite story involves apathy, which is, I heard tell, pathological in nature.

    It was an awesome dinner and an excellent time and she's a most excellent young person (yay, I stopped myself!) and Tanya Donelly is a fucking stone killer Rock Goddess.

    Cool poem, too, and I see no reason not to share in the good mood until my in-laws arrive.

  2. That's favorite story number two. I'd argue the point further, but I don't care. It's a disease.

  3. Page not found on the "Follow the argument" link.

  4. That really was some classic motherfuckery by Young (not that I am incapable of motherfuckery myself).

  5. Zen, fixed, apologies. fish, possibly, but I doubt and hope you haven't Young-toxic motherfuckery in you.