This week I lost it. My anger went everywhere I went. It clung like Gorilla Glue. I exploded, yelling about everything that came to mind. If I hadn’t been so non-rationally serious, it would’ve been hilarious. Right, we’re gonna leave the country. Right, we’re gonna find a ramshackle house in a deep forest. Right, nothing I do matters. Right, I’m never coming out of the house.
Julie sat. Listened. Vivi, our dog, offered herself for petting.
Please, enough of this “45 isn’t arousing hate.” Of course he is. And he is permitting, encouraging, those who hate that they are doing the right thing by attacking, even killing those who differ from them.
I was told to be careful about celebrating the evening when 250 of us gathered for song, poetry, and jazz. I was cautioned for saying “like-minded,” for a friend’s saying it was “Blessed Community.” I should’ve said “like-hearted.” These are people who are like-hearted, united by love.
When asked to pray before meetings, a colleague in the English department at the college where I taught would bow her head, keep her eyes open, and pray, “Let us delight in our differences. Amen.”
Some Answers to Your Question
—Only when the door is unlocked and open.
—Oh, I suppose it’s simply the way I am.
—Well, the Bible seems to, at least to my mind, contradict itself on that.
—I think it was after he fell off his bicycle. The bike, by the way, was ruined.
—Do I really think so? Is that any question to ask? I mean really.
—Don’t worry about it. They’re like that.
From Saint Peter and the Goldfinch (Wayne State University Press)
Go Valencia!! I had the joy of spending time with marvelous artist/poet Valencia Robin at a conference awhile ago. I’m so happy to report that her new collection Ridiculous Light received the Lexi Rudnitzky First Book Prize from Persea Books. One of the many stunning qualities of her work is the presentation of survival in a way that somehow creates a gentle quiet.
Watch for this film, The Biggest Little Farm, a documentary about John and Molly, a husband and wife who created a farm that grows in harmony with all, and I mean all, of nature. It took them seven years. The film will bring many a gasp, sigh, laugh, and choked back tear. It will get us talking. Side note: the wife, Molly, is the daughter of friends of ours. Her dad was a standout forward for one of the teams my father coached, one which was ranked number one throughout the season.
Jeff Gundy’s Without a Plea “brashly ranges from stick-thin lyrics to page-crossing two-line stanzas” and reveals that “the world is full / of little possibilities for love.”
Tony Eames from nfreads.com published this interview. His goal with his newsletter is to “learn something new every week.” Wonderful.
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