The Ungathering

I remember my favorite part of Thanksgivings past, walking out of the family gathering into the crisp, almost-winter air, shutting the door, the silence outside, emptying my body of the invasion of vibrating sounds.

Individualism is slowly filling my rooms. Or quietness. I'm not sure. My dream Thanksgiving is a fine meal with a small group of people, A hike in a National Park. A book of poetry. A glass of wine in front of a fireplace. A rocking chair.

Arrivals

The Keranens three drove to Chicago Saturday night to pick up Jocelyn from O'Hare. Her first solo flight went swimmingly. It's been three long months and suddenly she's standing with her suitcase under the arrivals sign, looking completely competent, ready to greet life, ready to ARRIVE.

Granted, there is no standing still. Gene turned 50 yesterday. We feted him on Sunday. A party guest from his before life was amazed that he prepared part of the meal. You cook more than grilled cheese now? Other old friends posted pics of his before life on Facebook. Hilarious party pics, but not the man I know. DDL mentioned once the idea of reinventing yourself again and again, but I think whether or not you consciously decide to reinvent yourself, you are reinvented. I suppose the conscious part of the equation implies you have some input into the process. I mean, surely one does get to make a few choices here and there. But then after you make a choice you're in the thick of it and there's no telling how you're going to come out on the other end. Perhaps you'll be a fabulous beef brisket chef.

I have arrived somewhere, too, but I'm not sure where. I believe I'm still looking for my luggage, wondering where to stand.

American Bio

Emperor

painter, missionary, poet

prince, theologian, trader and explorer

queen, inventor, marshal, mathematician, painter, artist

composer, writer, governor, general, neurologist, anarchist, neurologist, social worker, physicist, commander, politician, philosopher,author, psychologist, actor, sound engineer, politician, director, laureate, sculptor, Queen, actor, pioneer, player, secretary, diplomat, historian, singer, painter, biochemist, Bishop, player, cricketer, actor, conductor, actor, musician and composer, actor, player, decathlete, player, actress, senator, player, skier, poet, comedian, singer, author, player, director, politician, actress, coach, actor, architect, producer, player, songwriter, player, director, Governor, musician, scriptwriter, politician, politician, musician, politician, Minister, owner, actor, actor, coach, player, criminal, player, daughter, reader, actress, footballer, presenter, actor, entertainer, cricketer, diver, singer, drummer, personality, player, composer, musician, actress, actress, singer, guitarist, actress, coach, player, actor, guitarist, actor, player, singer, singer, player, footballer, skater, actress, humorist, Rapper, actress, actor, footballer, swimmer, player, stuntwoman, player, actress, footballer, wrestler, musician, wrestler, singer, player, cricketer, player, player, player, player, player, actor, novelist, actress, singer, actress, actor, actress.

Hay Day

Gene & I took off this morning for the bi-weekly hay run.

Not this hay, although it is lovely.

We buy the stuff that is a little handier size.

Jojo's Roses

Baby, it's not just cold, it's 25 degrees outside!

There's a fabulous frost across Michiana.

I'm thinking about buying firewood.

Nine more days until we pick up Jojo from Chicago.

Gotta buy wood!

The Synaxis of the Archangel Larry and Other Bodiless Minds

It isn't going to happen

Descartes had his dreams
----------------and meditations

I have in me an idea of God

But it's fading

I will tell you

We were in the business
--------of rehabilitating dolls

Their site of origin
---------------long past bombed

Culls for the future

For whatever reason

--------------I painted the heads

Fashioned wire doll bodies

Spun cotton around wire
---------------into the loosest skins

When we spoke their bodies stiffened

Someone breathed logos

It wasn't god

Granite Railway

At night we heard the chirping
-----------of the diesel frogs

A common crossing
-----------beneath the trestle

Vagabonds

A boy stretched out like Jesus

-----------He already knew

Monuments

The future engraving granite
----------into each of his ribs

Our hearts were really pumping

Cathoom, cathoom

I watched a train churn slowly above us

Graffitied and loud

The engineer's arm waving

His face out of view

Leon Gambetta Flees Paris in a Balloon

5.

Flight 5970

On the very lips of your intended

---------An aspirational cabal

Pink neon floating vacancy

The rope you are holding has torn
---------the flesh from your palms

4.

Under mysterious circumstances
----------you have taken a room

Near The Inn at Grinder's Stand
---------------(now a wheat field)

A woman is moaning

3.

A woman is always moaning

2.

You have drifted

Beyond The Alleghenies
They're closing

------------The aboriginal lands

Sorry settlers!

This is the last call

1.

You fear fire and bodies of water

The weather is dry

A horse has lost itself in the forest

Leif Erickson has landed in L'Anse aux Meadows

Raking & Words

Well, I did find the rake and used it just long enough to realize family intervention was needed. My sister-in-law, amazing woman, sent my brother, my nephew, and their lawn tractor. The lawn looked amazing for almost four hours, then it started to rain and all those leaves that were still clinging to the trees came down. I guess the family will be back again soon.

On the good side, rain is fabulous for writing. Last night my dreams came in words, pages and pages of words. I'm curious if other writers have this phenomena in their dreams. My words were like a novel. George Bush was being punched in the face. I mean, the dream was just like reading a novel. Turning the pages. The words streaming out of my thoughts. I guess you had to be there.

Still Can't Find The Rake

It's possible I haven't been looking really hard.