"If I Could Fold Myself Away Like a Card Table

a concertina or a Murphy Bed, I would. But I wasn't made that way."

No one tells me that Ryan A. is not a poet. And what Ryan Adams doesn't get about artists or chronic sadness or the halloween heads we sometimes battle, doesn't need to be understood anyway.

So there.

But today is pretty, Lots of walking and my neighborhood all giddy with its summeryness. People out. Families, kids, dogs, sidewalk artists, lots of Graeter's ice cream is being consumed. What summer Saturdays were made for.

Farewell thee Well, Fair Spike

Early one morning, just as the sun was rising
I heard a maid sing in the valley below
"Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,
How could you use, a poor maiden so?"

Because indeed I am the last living soul to make my way through the series, which was completed last night. Between this, the end of Rome, and of course, The Sopranos...thank God we've adopted our own crazy Dru. Sigh... On to Angel.

Listening to Amy Millan's Honey from the Tombs and you should too.
"You've got lips that I could spend the day with."

June 26th is the place to be

when Ryan Adams' latest cd appears and though your funds be summered and few, you will rush to the music store and you will bring that boy on home. (The way he ought to be.)

Platinemu

Drusilla leaves a mangled fish at various key points in the apartment intended to entice one emuist or another. If I had a groovy pink & yellow shimmery stuffed fish, I'd chuck it all the way to Chicago.

And it seems that R.M.R. was thinking of Ms. Dru, Gladiola & (yes, Liz & Chicky, also Bitsy and Harriet, too).

Black Cat
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
will be absorbed and utterly disappear:

just as a raving madman, when nothing else
can ease him, charges into his dark night
howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels
the rage being taken in and pacified.

She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen
into her, so that, like an audience,
she can look them over, menacing and sullen,
and curl to sleep with them. But all at once

as if awakened, she turns her face to yours;
and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny,
inside the golden amber of her eyeballs
suspended, like a prehistoric fly.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Ee-mmmmm-You

When I'm crying.
Thank you for that. And
For the ineffable sense
Of continuance. You were. You are
The brightest thing in the shop window
And the most beautiful seldom I ever saw.

Mary Jo Bang

Stars in Her Eyes

Friday night I walked into Sippy Cups to check email and someone called out
"When you said periwinkle, it threw me, but then I remembered that my favorite care bear was periwinkle. Happy Birthday."

The bear was beautiful, a vintage tie wrapped around her neck, her plush fur still glisteny and the color was indeed, all-dusk.
"She's called Daydream Bear. I like her best because she has stars in her eyes," he said.

Between that, the parade where a beautifully twilight-shirted someone (starsintheeyesinducing) and the fact that the Era of Great Disappointment has absconded itself to elsewhere, things are very not bad here. (To borrow the words of Eliot Wilson.)

I am reminded that I always wanted to thank the people that stayed and the people that have left my life, each for making it better by their actions.

Hello Sky!

Me&You&aCatNamedDru

Go-Go Guenette!!!

Dream Horse Press has announced that our own Matthew Guenette's manuscript, Sudden Anthem, has won the 2007 American Poetry Journal Book Prize. The award carries a
$1000 prize and book publication, with the book slated for a
Winter/Spring 2008 release. The book will be available via Amazon,
Barnes & Noble, and other bookstores that see fit to order it.

This is a long, long, long, awaited and deeply overdue recognition. Google him (if you don't know his work already)& see why. Pre-order the book. Plus balloons. Plus confetti. Never enough confetti for a Guenette poem.

Congratulations Dora Osherow Korewa!

Sometimes I Love Being Wrong

Because I wanted not at all to see Knocked Up and I did and it was good.
Before it was a perfect Park City day: complete with Alpine Slide and an exhilerating dash down the mountain on a coaster thingy. After which was home and soup-making for my sick daddy and then a grocery store where the first bridal magazine was purchased and pondered pre-movie and then the phonecall from Person Very Much Fonded and word from a certain songbird-murderess, fish-mangling girl-gorgeous. And then there were fresh peaches and strawberries at Chez George & Kathy and it was lovely and tonight I sleep soundly and go bird-watching in my dreams.

Happy Birthday M.C & Congratulations Christina & Joe

My baby sister is engaged. In a Salt Lake canyon with a waterfall in tow, she got a beautiful square-shaped sparkley.

Today we Park City and wander. The weather is gorgeous and so is my hometown.

Certain birds are indeed missable.