Saturday, March 12, 2022

If, When Studying Road Atlases While Taking, as You Call It, Your Morning Dump, You Shout Down to Me Names Like Miami City, Franconia, Cancún, as Places for You to Take Me to from Here, Can I Help It If All I Can Think Is Things Are Stupid?

Bookkeeper quitting. This should give me more joy: Bookkeeper the single worse manager of staff I've ever experienced since working in Arnold's Deli on Redland Road in Derwood in 1975 when I was sixteen. Opinions differ between us whether Bookkeeper more idiot than asshole or asshole than idiot, all agree Bookkeeper's a moron. Opinions differ between us whether Bookkeeper might be a decent human in real life though the majority of us guess Bookkeeper probably the same imperious moron in real life that Bookkeeper is as a boss and all of us convinced Bookkeeper considers herself an exemplary boss and morally superior human.

Bookkeeper's bosses consider Bookkeeper an excellent boss as far as we know, our bosses have never asked us what we think of Bookkeeper, though to be fair our bosses have never asked any non-professional librarian what non-professional librarian thinks about the non-professional librarians' professional librarian boss (or anything else for that matter). Our department gets praised to our boss and our boss' bosses by faculty all the time, faculty tell us, we only hear it from faculty directly, never from our bosses. All twelve bottles of French wine I was gifted by a group of faculty two weeks ago as thanks for services rendered distributed to all my colleagues, as was the email of thanks sent to me, Bookkeeper, and Bookkeeper's bosses (I saw the CCs) all of whom as yet, after two weeks, yet to say anything to me and my colleagues. I did forget to turn on the lights over the reference desk for the first time in four years this past Wednesday and got email from Bookkeeper asking me why I could not perform this simple act of responsibility and do I *want* to be written up for insubordination?

Bookkeeper quitting should give me more joy, and I don't mean to diminish my relief than starting May I need never interact with Bookkeeper again, but no joy at Bookkeeper's departure, the structure and culture of Bookkeeper's bosses remains (think professional Democrats and their West Wing zealot wannabes), and already Bookkeeper's bosses have made interim manager until Bookkeeper's replacement hired (in approx eighteen months, no shit, that's the timetable) precisely the person every single one of my colleagues expressed both revulsion at the prospect of and complete confidence would be named. This, of course, micro-fine metaphors abounding, typed while fully aware few of you get the obscure Kids in the Hall allusion (and without me providing a youtube to the skit), and typed not only while dark and sideways over macro-fine metaphors abounding but angry because it's motherfucking snowing outside and the Catoctin hike Lynn and I had planned today canceled. Along with the twelve bottles of wine I got cakes and pastries from a famous bakery in Arlington, I don't drink wine, I don't like sweets, finally a fine metaphor abounding that makes me laugh happily instead of angry wryly. Angwryly

And joy? Joy is another brilliant new Destroyer song, first listen, smitten.

All posts are live posts and edited until I stop editing but this one more live (or not, I'll see) than most
Every reason to lie about the war
Worthy and unworthy victims
Tweet on Maddow where professional liberal says at least Hitler not Putin, deleted from where I c/ped it, fuck finding it again, American Liberal shits
Thoughts on the above
Killing the planet one coral reef at a time
Unchecked Workplace Dictatorships
Listening to the sounds of extinct birds
Classless tales of class and age
A rant about college textbooks
FRESH HELLI am both delighted and horrified to discover that at the inevitable news that the National League starting now and forever will use the DH I've no fucks to give
Been bingeing Carl Phillips


Carl Phillips

If, when studying road atlases
while taking, as you call it, your   
morning dump, you shout down to   
me names like Miami City, Franconia,   
Cancún, as places for you to take   
me to from here, can I help it if

all I can think is things that are   
stupid, like he loves me he loves me   
not? I don’t think so. No more
than, some mornings, waking to your   
hands around me, and remembering   
these are the fingers, the hands I’ve

over and over given myself to, I can   
stop myself from wondering does that   
mean they’re the same I’ll grow   
old with. Yesterday, in the café I   
keep meaning to show you, I thought   
this is how I’ll die maybe, alone,

somewhere too far away from wherever   
you are then, my heart racing from   
espresso and too many cigarettes,   
my head down on the table’s cool   
marble, and the ceiling fan turning   
slowly above me, like fortune, the

part of fortune that’s half-wished-
for only—it did not seem the worst   
way. I thought this is another of   
those things I’m always forgetting   
to tell you, or don’t choose to   
tell you, or I tell you but only

in the same way, each morning, I
keep myself from saying too loud I
love you until the moment you flush
the toilet, then I say it, when the
rumble of water running down through
the house could mean anything: flood,

your feet descending the stairs any
moment; any moment the whole world,
all I want of the world, coming down.


  1. 1/outside our montgomery village back window is a little bit of woods

    2/it snowed this morning

    3/i took advantage of that to quote most of frost's "stopping by woods on a snowy evening" to missus charley - she grew up elsewhere and early education did not include poem - she enjoyed it - i sort of remembered 3 of the four verses, looked it up to get it exactly right afterwards


    5/in the anthology of poetry i took from the shelf to read frost's poem to missus charley is a clipping of a newspaper horoscope i saved decades ago

    What had been holding you back is history. All stops are out, you are able to reach beyond previous limitations. People are drawn to you, love plays major role, and you could be asked to disseminate special information.

  2. Bet bespoken bookkeeper never notes obvious overreach by bellowing, "Daaah, I'm in the garage!"