my tree will be bigger. i loved him more.
i know it's the end of april but i never posted any poems for poetry month, so you get the traditional first poem of poetry month at the end instead.
They have a daughter now. She loves us
as he and Elizabeth once loved us,
and as we still love them,
as we love all three of them now.
If there is one word a dog has the right to use
it is that one.
People pull their punches, refer to dogs' love
with words such as loyalty, obedience, or even submissiveness,
but it is love.
We take long naps in the mountain sun, now,
or try to, while the baby tugs on our ears,
covers us with leaves, grass, and dirt:
trampolines on our ribs, just to hear us grunt.
We all go for walks, each day, the five of us.
He plants trees. They both do, on special occasions:
birth-trees, birthday trees, anniversary trees -
Maple, apple, cherry, ash and lilacs;
Larch, ponderosa pine, spruce fir and cedar.
As we walk, he talks to Elizabeth about their daughter,
being thirty years old someday and seeing these trees he's
planted for her. He talks about how he'll be
sixty-five, then, and she, thirty, and how she can look at them,
knowing he planted them for her: how big they'll be, then.
He strides from tree to tree, looking up.
We will be thirty years gone, at the time of which
he speaks, casting his thoughts into the future, and sometimes,
as he walks and says these things, he forgets
to look down at us, looks only ahead and beyond.
When we sleep for good, I would like a tree.
I would like Ann to have a tree, too.
We can be side by side,
on one of the hills that we used to explore.
My tree will be bigger. I loved him more.
Ann is the one he picked first. But he came back for me.
--from The Odyssey, by Rick Bass
in totally other news, my bang is away! by which i mean, i turned in the draft and the summary so i can be counted for artists' claims. which are in two weeks, which seems like forever from now. i'm not sold on the summary but at least i like the title, and in any case i finished the draft on time and that's really all that matters.
elementary is back! i feel like i should have something to say about it. ok, one thing: joan telling sherlock to stand up so she can hug him, after he tells her about his brain problem (i can't remember the medical term), and he just stands there stiffly because his personality hasn't changed. and she doesn't let go. but he kinda looked like he kinda wanted to hug back. and the matter-of-fact tone with which he tells gregson that yes, he did in fact take a bribe, it was $5m, here's the account number, maybe they can use the transaction to find the guy who made it. i love him. and jonny lee miller and lucy liu still have really fantastic chemistry. no clyde, tho.
i've discovered old x-files reruns on bbc america. right now they're showing the one with chad lindberg, who just looks so greasy. and young! but mostly like he needs a shower.
They have a daughter now. She loves us
as he and Elizabeth once loved us,
and as we still love them,
as we love all three of them now.
If there is one word a dog has the right to use
it is that one.
People pull their punches, refer to dogs' love
with words such as loyalty, obedience, or even submissiveness,
but it is love.
We take long naps in the mountain sun, now,
or try to, while the baby tugs on our ears,
covers us with leaves, grass, and dirt:
trampolines on our ribs, just to hear us grunt.
We all go for walks, each day, the five of us.
He plants trees. They both do, on special occasions:
birth-trees, birthday trees, anniversary trees -
Maple, apple, cherry, ash and lilacs;
Larch, ponderosa pine, spruce fir and cedar.
As we walk, he talks to Elizabeth about their daughter,
being thirty years old someday and seeing these trees he's
planted for her. He talks about how he'll be
sixty-five, then, and she, thirty, and how she can look at them,
knowing he planted them for her: how big they'll be, then.
He strides from tree to tree, looking up.
We will be thirty years gone, at the time of which
he speaks, casting his thoughts into the future, and sometimes,
as he walks and says these things, he forgets
to look down at us, looks only ahead and beyond.
When we sleep for good, I would like a tree.
I would like Ann to have a tree, too.
We can be side by side,
on one of the hills that we used to explore.
My tree will be bigger. I loved him more.
Ann is the one he picked first. But he came back for me.
--from The Odyssey, by Rick Bass
in totally other news, my bang is away! by which i mean, i turned in the draft and the summary so i can be counted for artists' claims. which are in two weeks, which seems like forever from now. i'm not sold on the summary but at least i like the title, and in any case i finished the draft on time and that's really all that matters.
elementary is back! i feel like i should have something to say about it. ok, one thing: joan telling sherlock to stand up so she can hug him, after he tells her about his brain problem (i can't remember the medical term), and he just stands there stiffly because his personality hasn't changed. and she doesn't let go. but he kinda looked like he kinda wanted to hug back. and the matter-of-fact tone with which he tells gregson that yes, he did in fact take a bribe, it was $5m, here's the account number, maybe they can use the transaction to find the guy who made it. i love him. and jonny lee miller and lucy liu still have really fantastic chemistry. no clyde, tho.
i've discovered old x-files reruns on bbc america. right now they're showing the one with chad lindberg, who just looks so greasy. and young! but mostly like he needs a shower.