so

cornell's school colors are red et white
and so are canada's

cornell's umbrellas are red et white
and so are canada's _

so I have this hilarious time wandering around
with a canadian umbrella
and almost blending in, except
not

AND: now people think that i'm from canada,
which is even better.
plus five1.

-----
1 p.s. i miss sally.
The Grasses Cry Defiance -
Their shriek enShocks the spine -

New Bliss -
Bladeless -

Quetzalcoatl Caught Alive! -
Wade the Tide of Ritual
with Beating Heart and Blood! -

Flood the Eye with Images,
Bend the Ear with Sound,
Sanctify the Shivering -
(Writhe Soft upon this ground) -

A chilly, blinded Radiance -
Contortion Come Refined -

the grasses sigh to silence,
And Every Note is Mine.

[-]
Ah, I'd forgotten about this. )

It's a wave cresting,
Breaking on the beach,
And receeding.

It's illustrated beautifully in the meter.

May your time be / filled with relaxing
 ^   -    ^   -      ^     -    - ^  -

sunsets / cool drinks
 ^  ^      ^     ^

and sand between / your toes.
 -   ^   -  ^       -    ^
It's so great:

^ -  ^ -  ^ - -  ^ -
^ ^  ^ ^
- ^  - ^  - ^
Trochee Trochee Dactyl Trochee
Spondee... Spondee...
Iamb Iamb Iamb.
someday,
when once the sun
sinks

in the west,
i shall construct the Library
of Loud, Loud Noises

...

Meet me there.

//



and since I probably should have given elucidation when t'was due,
I'll toss an anchor out to this.
yesterday-
with a ghosty-blanked chalkboard mind-

i walked with the lake,
and the flowers and the trees,
and the clouds I closed my eyes.

a plant jokingly held my hand.
he was a spiny, furrowed fellow.
i patted him gently and bid him well.

on the bridge was
well,
me.


I perched-- I watched a channel do its chores.
the water burbled cool and clean as soap,
washing its sands and scrubbing all the fishes.

the sun, I saw, was sleepy.
it blinked a cloudy lash a time or two,
and, gently closing, powdered me with dusk.

the sky drew up and sneezed.
a laughing couple ambled by, hands entwined, seeking shelter from the storm--
god bless you.

And I followed those two steps-
not too close, but also wet-
and waved the choppy lake a quick farewell.
we foppish, bickering featherbaskets; Shh--
I hear whispers: don't look now, but-
we tumble and slide
away from the dumb glaze of a soppy, ancient cloud

wooly as an old, dry buffalo, panting
lonely and cold after her herd

(she hasn't met that frosted, pulpy pit-pat
-SPLAT
her fellows found when They rolled down
from that icy, solid sheet -

) which is lovely, but seagulls?

With warming shrugs,
we float to chase the sun.






//
or i guess i could have just taken a picture,
but .. words are prettier?

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notyourbroom

September 2008

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