The Deep

Anne Boyer is my favorite poet.

The truth is, maybe, that I have many favorite poets. But Anne is the latest of them. She is all the rage at the moment, at my house. Again.

My anxiety surfaced on the back of a huge animal
and when it jumped out of fear, a baby deer fell from its womb.

I think one fell out of my bag at the library yesterday,
and I left another in the darkness, coming toward my car.

I screamed and spilled the rest of my beer.*

&

A doe jumped in great fear and ran from the river
and a deer baby fell into Kentucky.

Then I forgot the beauty of sex.

But sex is always bringing animal parts to us
and rabbits eat all the shoots, and starve,
and with a cumulative jumping and being afraid
and pleasing and protecting and fondling
the name in general is a word for a room still used
and the young shoots, peeled, are edible in most young families.*

&

We can't afford
raving about clean fresh philosophy.

As a method of debridement
I imprinted on hard when I was a kid.

I typed "Katie's Grace" into doll, dolls,
costume, costumes, fairy, fairies, wing, wings.

I miss that a lot in the Serb language.

I actually like Katie
lumping Russians and Jews

(they get all the airtime on cable).**

There are 5 poems in the deep, & it is decorated with toothy fish & endorsed by Abe Lincoln. I could quote the whole chapbook here, but will not, & so you're just gonna have to wish hard that her book A Romance of Happy Workers from Coffee House comes out a lot faster than promised. Or maybe she still has some copies of The Deep, but there were not that many, not nearly enough.

I watched a National Geographic special about sharks & dolphins yesterday too, which was great, but not as great as these 5 poems.

* From "The Dark Deer"
** From "Poem for Katie"

Another good movie

Jennifer L. Knox reading "My Big German Bra."

And me reading "Moscow"* by Jason Schneiderman.

Courtesy of Poetry Radio, WGLT in Normal, IL.

*I'm a Texan, so this rhymes with "ow" not "oh."

Good movie

But it's true

There are two grey squirrels fighting like mad outside my window. I can only see the tails, but the branches of the tree are going crazy. They've been at it for half an hour.

The most important thing on my mind lately is giving up bottled water. It is a fact that NYC's drinking water is some of the best in the country. However, I have a psychological aversion to it. I had a filter pitcher for a while, but damn those are expensive, the filters. Then bought a faucet filter, less packaging, no plastic, but it didn't fit my stupid sink. Once I began thinking about the transport of bottled H2O, not to mention all the plastic, I could no longer justify the irrefutable fact that I must be hydrated to live. This is an utterly preposterous "problem" to have. Over there any water at all.

I drank spring water, straight from a spring, for a week in Montana. I also went swimming in it. It was fucking freezing. And delicious.

Large groups of human beings are innately tragic & infuriating. A lone human, often ditto.

Which state of our union will coddle us sufficiently, to our peaces. Ours. The one with the most grass & the most sky. The one with the most work & the most social stimulation. (Social stimulation & overstimulation being a precarious tipping point for a partial agoraphobe with an anxiety disorder married to a habitual grump. We have lots of fun at home.) This one. That one. Any of them. Are there differences. Yes there are differences. Which differences make The Difference.

We know what home is. Have you seen it?

Commiser(y)ate

That's what it's called, swear.