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| Marjorie Perloff [pic from jacket2 courtesy of Marjorie Perloff] |
Al Filreis urges us to read Marjorie Perloff's essay [again] about poetry [not] on the brink.
AM Babble
I wake before the
cat, eager to roll the day
yet wait until
five, I walk the cat to her bowl
return to bed for Mike's full-body hug
dress when the cat cries, races to flop
on the kitchen rug for a belly rub, I carry her
purring to the cat door, push her through
now I make my Earl Grey, spoon honey
take my pills, twitter at myself, post to Susan
glance at Facebook, read the news
some Perloff, a review of Guest
now the moment arrives — what to do today?
read & write, weed
& prune, walk, harvest
vegetables, seed a flat, roast eggplants
& red bell peppers, layer with tomatoes & queso
Jane's for sewing circle @ two — no
point
going to town for meat, the shops empty
even if they’re open until the trucks appear
probably not until tonight, or
mañana
we're a long way down the road.
one more footnote from Boully:
156.999 . . .
Translator’s Note. — This
sentence in the original is obviously meant to illustrate the fault
of which it speaks. It does so by the use of a construction very
common in the original,‡ but happily unknown in translation∞;
however, the fault itself still exists nonetheless, though in
different form.
‡ original
as in this life.
∞ translation
as in the next.
fiscal
cliff averted, say what? . . . let it go, the Internet here so f'ing
slow
can't
load foxnews OR the new york times even if I cared to
Selah: probably a liturgical direction, added to the original text of a psalm. It may mean lift up, either to indicate the lifting up of the voices of the singers in a doxology, or to call for lifted-up instrumental music in an interlude in the singing.
Spoke
English
as
if unfortunate squirrel.
Am
greedy.
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| Peter Gizzi [pic by Robert Seydel] |
Add
This to the House
Not
a still life into which artifice may enter
but
a labor to describe the valves
and
cordage that entwine this room;
the
voltage is enough to kill.
Who
in the morning dish-gray light
can
fathom the witness parable of waking,
the
bed, the cask, the zoned spaces
we
pass through. It would be lovely
to
say floorboards pose in firelight,
coals
are banking down, the room
comes
up by degrees. Instead, the day
has
begun, shadows dispelled by the clock,
by
the promise of work, Clorox,
the
phone. I can see you by that metaphor,
the
house, the door, the car heading out
to
meet the sun, then again hours
later
returning, your back to it.
work, Clorox, / the phone. . . . the house, the door, the car . . . your back to it . . .
Our sewing circle met for the first time today. Jane crocheted, Margaret embroidered, Deirdre quilted, Eris made a felted animal, Kathy sewed, & I began to learn to crochet — much more practice required.
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