Thursday, August 9, 2018

in case of emergency the seventh and final theme of this systematic poem is the systematic way death undresses in front of you

Fields of ferns, acres of them, Petit Manan National Wildlife Refuge.

Lengthy but mostly flat, knees this morning not barking.

I love bogs. I love heaths. I love scrub forests.

Pouring, 7:17AM Thursday morning, rain all day, what to do?

I know -


Our housesitter/catsitter got married and moved to Michigan, the woman who comes once a day to feed the cats has not seen Napoleon (or MomCat) since we left on vacation. Neighbors to our left are building an addition, MomCat sleeps in their backyard, the elementary school across the street is tearing down the portable classrooms, Napoleon sleeps underneath them to wait out the Summer sun.


  • It is not unusual for Napoleon and MomCat to not appear for strangers, and
  • the food put out is eaten (though we've possum and raccoon scavengers), but
  • I will never forgive myself if I never see them again.
  • Not just this, but the fuck with forlorn on vacation?
  • New Richard Thompson? His band coming to DC November 9th?


Frank Stanford

Is like a lyric poem
with seven basic themes
first the cottonpicker
dragging behind it a wagon of testicles
a pair of pliers which can fill in
for a cross in a pinch
then there is the warm pond
between the maiden’s thighs
next we have some friends
of yours and mine
who shall be with us always
Pablo the artist
the pubis of the moon
Pablo the cellist
panther of silence
Pablo the poet
the point of no return
and in case of emergency
the seventh and final theme
of this systematic poem
is the systematic way
death undresses in front of you


  1. Hope MomCat and Napolean will be okay. Saw a documentary on cats years ago when I still watched television (which I no longer do) and it turns out cats can have multiple beneficiaries in the food department. When I still lived in the San Francisco bay area (there's no such place as Frisco) the bay lands were always a favorite place to hike. Snowy egrets, blue herons, burrowing owls, just to name a few, could always be seen and enjoyed. There's always something special about where the land meets the sea. I always tried to imagine what it was like before whitey showed up to ruin everything. It was once a haven for migrating birds, there must have been millions of them at one time. But WTF, everything changes. Another paradise lost. People used to tell me to enjoy the good times while they last. It took me 66 years to figure out what that meant exactly.

  2. Dood. How the FUCK do you talk about Elric and bass players without doing the thing that must be done? I mean, I see that and scroll down and I don't get the thing I expect and I have to go find it on YouTube? You Pavlov us up like you have, for years, YEARS, I say, and then just deny the treat? This is morality? This is kindness? Hope you find stuff to do in the rain. Love.