Saturday, June 25, 2022

opened milkweed with no agenda, blew the fluff

  • My mother would have been 88 today
  • I did not type in digital tablet or write in analog tablet or start a link grid or new blagpost since the one post from Michigan near the trip's beginning, I am home now and here I am
  • If the Roe news broke at ten Friday morning I was five minutes into Pennsylvania driving home from a wonderful six days in Michigan listening to an Evil Music Service's shoegazer radio, laugh, I heard or saw nothing about the news until five hours after news broke
  • Remember when Barack Obama was just inaugurated and had a super-majority in both House and Senate and during his campaign he had promised that if elected he would federally codify Roe "first thing" and of course he didn't (but did use his super-majority to bail out Jamie Dixon)
  • Here is the Father's Day gift from my son-in-law I (I think I'm going to have to live with the I thing) with Dogduck and Dino in our front yard



  • I *did* stop at the store where I (me) bought Dogduck and Dino for something new but everything old I remembered why I didn't buy before and only thing new another dinosaur, three feet tall, I have a dinosaur
  • To show their fury at the Roe decision House Democrats gathered on the steps of the Capital and sang God Bless America while elsewhere Nancy Pelosi read a poem of despair by an Arab living in Israel (while Pelosi supports the Israeli apartheid state responsible for the poet's despair) (this the same Nancy Pelosi who used every means necessary to ensure that an anti-abortion incumbent currently in legal jeopardy barely beat out a promising progressive candidate, imagine)
  • Michigan looks different this June than previous two Junes, lusher, darker greens in trees, neon green algae in bogs, woods filled with Jem'Hadar flies, you can deet against them biting but then they relentlessly buzz your head, bonk your ears and cheeks, arms and legs 
  • I needed to bring the rental car to the house to unload and Momcat greeted me, I drove the rental car to Pooks Hill Marriott and dropped off then walked the mile and a half home and Momcat greeted me and I got in my car and got fresh food and when I unloaded the car Momcat greeted me
  • If the shitlords who control this part of the world didn't want these five cult lunatics (it's 9:30 PM EDT Friday night as I type this sentence, imagine the rapturous prayer parties (full of sinful acts Clarence Thomas says should be banned too) these fucks are attending) these (or any other five cult lunatics) wouldn't be successfully fascistically fetishisizing over what you do with your body
  • Here's Tindersticks with advice:



  • I took few photos in Michigan, weird wonderful vacation, I thought and felt, this is a vacation, Napoleon-worry no longer gnawing all-consumingly but also this the first vacation since Bookkeeper's retirement, nobody misses her, this not worrying about work while on vacation what a concept, relaxing on vacation? I had no idea
  • Reminder: rank and file Democrats angrier at you over Roe than crackers, much less shitlords, smack them as hard as you can with your Of Course I Hate Crackers and Cracker-whisperers but Motherfucking Democrats Are the Enemy stick because - and this is important - motherfucking Democrats are the enemy
  • Fleabus sits with me and Momcat and Frankie greet me and Stanley is Stanley and will cut me because he likes me but Olive sits at top of cat-tree and screams mick-mock (and louder at my mick-mocks back) and Rosie hiding under the bed in L's yarn room
  • I can again verify that Michigan weed is three times as good and three times less expensive than the crap weed you can buy in DC - those of you who ordered Durban Poison, Winewood was out, you get Durban Grapefruit instead, I vouch for it's lovely effectiveness
  • Reminder: shitlords don't care what peasants do with their bodies but shitlords DO want peasants to obsess over what other peasants do with *their* bodies so peasants don't obsess about what shittiness shitlords do to immiserate all peasants unto death though rent extraction's side-effects and the main tool of both rent extraction and you're not fighting *that* is your body and what you do with it that other peasants don't want you to
  • This post is a living post until it isn't
  • We go to Maine for two weeks in three weeks, Maine weed wussier AND more expensive than DC week, this will not be an issue, I have no plans to type or not type, write or not write, read or not read, post or not post, I do have plans to watch the sunset in Seal Cove with L and drink local beer and smoke Michigan weed, explore this whole relaxing while on vacation thing
  • From the horrible evil music service's shoegaze channel I was reminded of this small miracle:



CatMeows: a data set of cat vocalizations
When the worse people in the world keep winning
The worse people in the world always win
Crackers are pussiest just after victories
Plants are watchingShitlord profiteering
The Federal Republic of New Normal Germany
FRESH HELLTREES TALK
Ticking off the checklist for mass extinction
Today in my twitter self-surveillance
Helmetball stadium with snipers' nests
Excerpts from the Velveteen Gulag
Megrins, firks, and melancholies
On Armantrout{ feuilleton }'s weekly



SIX UNRHYMED SONNETS

Diane Seuss

1
I drove all the way to Cape Disappointment but didn’t
have the energy to get out of the car. Rental. Blue Ford
Focus. I had to stop in a semipublic place to pee
on the ground. Just squatted there on the roadside.
I don’t know what’s up with my bladder. I pee and then
I have to pee and pee again. Instead of sightseeing
I climbed into the back seat of the car and took a nap.
I’m a little like Frank O’Hara without the handsome
nose and penis and the New York School and Larry
Rivers. Paid for a day pass at Cape Disappointment
thinking hard about that long drop from the lighthouse
to the sea. Thought about going into the Ocean
Medical Center for a check-up but how do I explain
this restless search for beauty or relief?

2
No need to sparkle, Virginia Woolf wrote in “A Room
of One’s Own,” oh, would that it were true, I loved the kids
who didn’t, June, can’t remember her last name, tilt of her
head like an off-brand flower on the wane, her little rotten
teeth the color of pencil lead, house dresses even in 4th grade,
and that boy Danny Davis, gray house, horse, eyes, clothes,
fingertips and prints, freckles not copper-colored but like metal
shavings you could clean up with a magnet. Now Mrs. LaPointe
was a dug-up bone but Miss Edge sparkled, she taught the half-
and-half class, 3rd and 4th grades cut down the middle
of the room like sheet cake, she wore a lavender chiffon dress
with a gauzy cape to school, aquamarine eye shadow, Sweetie,
she whispered to me, leaning down, breath a perfume, your
daddy’s dead, tears stuck to her cheeks like leeches or jewels.

3
I aborted two daughters, how do I know they were girls,
a mother knows, at least one daughter, maybe one
daughter and a son, will it hurt I asked the pre-abortion
lady and she said, her eyes were so level, I haven’t been
stupid enough to need to find out, cruel but she was right,
I was and am stupid, please no politics, I’ve never gotten
over it, no I don’t regret it, two girls with a stupid penniless
mother and a drug-addict father, I don’t think so, I shot
a rabbit once for food, I am not pristine, I am not good,
I am in no way Jesus, I am in no way even the bad Mary
let alone the good, though I have held my living son
in the pietà pose, I didn’t know at the time I was doing it
but now that I look back, he’d overdosed and nearly died,
my heart, he said, his lips blue, don’t worry, I’ve paid.

4
To return from Paradise I guess they call that
resurrection. Don’t remember the black cherries’
gleam, bay shine, mountain’s sheen, blissful
appalling loneliness. Messy foam at sea’s edge,
slurry they call it, where love and death meld
into slop, and unaccustomed birds. Forget all
the way back to where you were before you were
born. When Dyl was a toddler, still finger-sucking,
he said he remembered the sound of my blood
whooshing past him in utero, maybe the first of many
lies, this one with an adorable speech impediment.
I always return, it’s my nature, like the man who
couldn’t stop liberating the crayfish even though
it pinched him hard, that song, that Grand Ole Opry.

5
The best is when you respond only to the absolute present
tense, the rain, the rain, rain, rain, and wind, an iridescent
cloud, another shooting, this time in a shopping mall
in Germany, so this is why people want other people to put
their arms around them, I will walk to the bay where there is
a kind of peace, even emptiness, the barn swallows’ sharp
flight and cry, who now has the luxury of emptiness or peace,
the beauty of thunder in a place where there is rarely thunder,
the mind like a jackrabbit bounding, bounding, my wet hair
against my neck, grandfather’s barber shop, the line-up
of hair tonics by color like a spectrum, the pool table removed
to make a room for great-grandma to live out her years, my
father cutting a semicircle in her kitchen table so it would fit
around the stove pipe, rain, rain, fascism in America is loud.

6
Poetry, the only father, landscape, moon, food, the bowl
of clam chowder in Nahcotta, was I happy, mountains
of oyster shells gleaming silver, poetry, the only gold,
or is it, my breasts, feet, my hands, index finger,
fingernail, hangnail, paper cut, what is divine, I drove
to the sea, wandered aimlessly, I stared at my tree, I said
in my mind there’s my tree, there’s my tree I said in my mind,
I remember myself before words, thrilled at my parents’
touch, opened milkweed with no agenda, blew the fluff,
no reaching for comparison, to be free of signification,
wriggle out of the figurative itchy sweater, body, breasts,
vulva, little cave of the uterus, clit, need, touch, come, I came
before I knew what coming was, iambic pentameter, did I
feel it, does language eclipse feeling, does it eclipse the eclipse

1 comment:

  1. i've only lived in one state that didn't border the atlantic ocean - kansas, during kindergarten - out of my ignorance i wondered if Cape Disappointment was a literal place or a name given in the tradition of John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress - the former, i discovered

    Lighthouses stand sentinel atop windswept cliffs, sea smells waft up through the air and waves collide with a crash where the Pacific Ocean meets the Columbia River below.

    Named for Captain John Meares’ first thwarted voyage to find the Columbia, Cape Disappointment is steeped in Northwest history. This is the place to explore U.S. military and maritime legacies and to experience the story of Lewis & Clark and the effect of their Corps of Discovery Expedition on Native American tribes.

    ReplyDelete