i have grown accustomed to the dark inside you

Apr 06, 2016 11:00

I would really like to lodge a complaint about this frigid weather in early April. I do not approve, and also it's freaking freezing in my office. Ugh, work. I would like to stay home in bed please.

No reading post today, because I am in fact rereading The Raven Cycle and probably won't have much to say about it until I've read the final book. *hands*

I do have some TV to talk about though:

Brooklyn Nine Nine
AMY SANTIAGO IS TOUGH ENOUGH. SHE'LL SPLIT YOU LIKE A SUNDAE WITH GRANPA. I kind of hated Jake here but I loved them not even trying to hide Fumero's pregnancy anymore. Also, everything with Holt et al. sneaking around was COMEDY GOLD. FAKING THE DEAD BODY. THE FUNERAL HIGH FIVES. AW YEAH.

iZombie: Reflections of the Way Liv Used to Be
HOLY SHIT MAJOR.

He starts out singing "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" and literally clicking his heels and ends up in FBI custody as the Chaos Killer. Which, to be fair, he actually is. Well, Chaos Kidnapper, anyway.

Ravi didn't get a lot to do but what he got was great. "Like me for my antidotes, love me for my anecdotes." "I have reach. I'm scrappy." ♥♥♥RAVI♥♥♥

Also, is Vaughn the worst father ever? I think he's gotta be up there on the list, a top ten candidate, right? I can't wait to see Rita bust out of zombie prison and join Team Liv (I hope).

KEITH MARS! This episode was even more VMars than usual - that was the Hearst food court, wasn't it? - but never more so than when Keith Mars was on the scene.

Don E. and Chief and the impromptu bluegrass rave up! Chief being smart enough to not kill Benedetto and also not take the marked money! How badly is Mr. Boss going to kill them for infringing on his Utopium trade despite Blaine's orders not to?

Next week's finale is gonna be a doozy!

Plus, have a link to some of the brain recipe puns the show has used.

***

Today's poem:

how the body works
by Megan Thoma

I am a tenant in your heart,
but I have lived in places
like this most my life.

It started at ten-
they thought
he had a summer tan,
but that's just the brown of a girl
stretched thin and holding on.

The year in the lungs
left me ash, but his every breath
reeked wit and curl.

I spent an hour in an asshole-
crawling around with a flashlight
on my head. It wasn't love.
Just curiosity.

I have filled stomachs.
Tap danced across teeth.
I know how the body works.
How the organs move wet.
How bones ache rain.

I have grown accustomed
to the dark inside you.

The way your pulmonary valve
pushes against my neck all day,
like the steady fluke of a whale
beating across the ocean.

I want to live here.
Make rooms of these chambers.
I'll start with the atrium.
I'll paint the walls.

***

This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/831909.html.
people have commented there.

national poetry month 2016, poetry, tv: brooklyn nine-nine, tv: izombie

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