Thanksgiving Feast

My friend Joan sent her kids off to college and is now living on the island of Cypress with her husband for the next five years. If you're going to have a mid-life crisis, that's the way to go! She is very encouraging to me as I plan my own mid-life crisis! Hah! She and her husband have no car, so they bike everywhere. She's looking fabulous. She brought some of the above treats for us yesterday to even out the Thanksgiving feast. Oh, my aching hat.

Shades of Arlo Guthrie

Q. Did you have to undergo any type of course or program or training as a result of the DUI that you received in 1991?
A. '91? No, I didn't have a DUI in '91.
Q. Excuse me, in 2001.
A. No. Community service.
Q. Okay. But the community service didn't address the effects of drinking and driving?
A. No.
Q. It didn't address drinking and driving at all?
A. It addressed picking up garbage.

Pre-Thanksgiving Dugan

No, this has nothing to do with Thanksgiving, except that today is Thanksgiving Eve. I wanted to say, though, that if you're not reading Alan Dugan, you should be. This is why I read poetry, why I slog through tons of crappy verse, on the off chance of finding, well, a Dugan.

So enjoy while I go cook. And happy turkey basting to you all!

In The Forest

it was warm and cold,
cold from the damps because
it all took place in the trees.
When it rained it rained
and when the rain stopped
the trees rained in the wind
and when the trees stopped
it rained. So it went.

Once it was huddling, once
it was sitting apart, once
it was bleeding in time.
We ate and we drank
and we slept and we
did something else
we should not talk about.
Was it love? It was all
supposed to be love.

My it was dark
at night. Whoever it was
who planned that place
forgot the lighting
although some claim to see.

(Alan Dugan, Poems Seven, Seven Stories Press, 2002.)

However

Not that I'm happy about it. No, not at all.

Reflection

I've been saving this one for a crappy weather day like today.

The Teeth of My Existence are Buried in the Wall

poof

Woo-hoo!

The November issue of Stirring is up, with poetry by Karen Terrey. Charmi Keranen, Doug Draime, Darren C. Demaree, Christine Potter and Patricia Smith, and fiction by D. Elliot Wedge. Guest edited by Abrielle Willis.

And the cover is too cool!

Upon Request

Back at home, it's lunchtime.

Tuntutuliak

While I was making it home safe and sound,
Gene was heading out to the Alaskan Bush.
Stop it. It's not like it sounds.

Just read a Jonathan Franzen essay on the U.S. Postal system.
I'm going to guess Tuntutuliak doesn't suffer
from the same problems as, say, Chicago might.

This is how you get there.

Moose Dirt

It was like seeing Big Foot -- a little blurry -- but much slower.

I was careful to follow the directions posted on every park info board.

"Always respect a moose's personal space."

We saw two moose, just grazing like cattle inside Kincaid Park.

Now my life is complete.