Skip to content

week 12, joy as an act of resistance

March 26, 2020

poetry in the time of a global pandemic?

chickens rooster jerk alert

wash your talons you gnarly squirt

 

 

 

Tar baby

My love wears me under his fingernails

Ten delicate black crescent moons.

I cling to him like hot tar.

Oil and skin mixed with tobacco, meat, wine, salted butter.

I am the rests of our feasting.

Held hostage in 10 tiny cells.

His teeth and lips release me

Only to gnaw at my mean.

I’m more savory the second time around.

I’m the tar, baby.

author’s note: please, no matter how much in love you are, please don’t eat the nastiness under fingernails, thank you

This past week I found myself wanting to read a novel in Spanish either Eva Luna by Isabelle Allende or Cien A~nos de Soledad by GGM. I own both yet they remain in my cold storage back in Chicagoland with the rest of my possessions (minus the few I’ve accumulated since my flight from there in August 2016.) Thus I will order one of those books online from an indie bookstore. Recommendations? 

Idles’ Joy as an Act of Resistance was absolutely not what I expected. I didn’t expect anything specific and most definitely not pop punk punk pop. Kinda angry. Kinda cool. I could see myself enjoying a set by this band if I walked into a bar with zero expectations. I think Rowan would dig this band. I found a couple tunes that I enjoyed and one, Cry to Me, that makes the playlist.

2020 Playlist (so far and in this specific order) 

  1.  Time by Jungle
  2.  Severed Crossed Fingers by St. Vincent
  3. Lemon Glow by Beach House
  4. 666 by Bon Iver
  5. The World at Night (for Stew) by Walter Martin
  6. The Place I Love by The Jam
  7. The Great Pretender by Brian Eno
  8. Hot Freaks by Guided by Voices
  9. I Like That by Janelle Monáe
  10. Spare-Ohs by Andrew Bird
  11. This is To Mother You by Sinéad O’Connor
  12. Cry to Me by Idles

“joy as an act of resistance” what does that even mean no sure especially right now I suppose I’m resisting no being freaked the fuck out. Hunkered down here in NorCal our county is still COVID19-free. Have you seen Chunk? He makes me happy. and joy continues to allude me especially when resisting freaking the fuck out.

Proving comfort to my family by cooking (including to grown a sourdough starter that I might’ve killed yesterday). And other foodstuffs like pink peppercorn scones por ejemplo. Yummy with the chicken soup. Also roasted chicken and veg, chili, meatballs and a grandma pie (with meatballs, duh) plus focaccia and tonight banana bread.

wp-1585198285761.jpg

Pink peppercorn scones

All the beasties here at the Murphy Ave. Menagerie are alive and well. Although as of yesterday the toddler has a cough and congestion. The dogs, the cat, the chickens, the rooster, and all the birds in the back yard including a new visitor this week the Red-winged Blackbird. That bird looked totes basic then I saw some brilliant flashes of red on the wings and I was all like “What in the flip??? That’s no basic Blackbird.” A little bit of research later and was able to identify the bird. Pretty neat. I received my fancy new monocular a couple days ago and have only used it a couple of times so far because, well, I need a lanyard for it so to have it at hand when I puttering around in the yard. Yes, puttering.

This week I’m feeling grateful for Tim sharing his bagel making live and online. I also feel grateful for my former colleagues ’97-01, a group of ladies that still keep in touch and call themselves “The Brunch Bunch.” They reached out to me as a founding member of that group and have scheduled a HH this week. One pleasant outcome of this global pandemic to motivate connecting in this way and I’ve seen many such moments pass through my Twitter stream. I feel happiness about the easy idea of (re)connecting with those ladies and am very much looking forward to the HH.

journal as diary as daily log and list to do various days this past week I barely left my bedroom today feeling a bit lethargic thinking about the Common Grackle not inspired to venture out at all this pen is leaking. I thought I would take a roadtrip or a trip and I didn’t and I’m fine here watching the birds. Dreams of struggle with the toddler a rope swing and big, brown bears. nothing to do and a few things to get done. What’s kookoo birds is that I imagine doing so many things in moments while not doing anything. 

This coming week I will listen to Sufjan Stevens’ new album, Aporia. You know he’s one of my all time favorite artists and yes that goes against the parameters set herein about 12 weeks ago. And, wow, shit (read EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD) has changed tremendously since then. Thus forth I will pick artists and their new-ish work that I adore. done and done.

How empty this white world outdoors would look without all these wings. (Sarton, 1973, p. 127)

 

Advertisement
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: