Spotted at the British Natural History Museum: Fat Manatee, London Edition.
you know, I’ve always thought “fat manatee” was a redundant username because really, have you ever seen a skinny manatee? I know I haven’t (but still, I get to think about manatees whenever I see it so I’m still OK with it)
Hey There Delilah, Plain White Ts
1. This came on in the campus bookstore yesterday (which is why I’ve been thinking about it).
2. We probably shouldn’t discuss how this was ALREADY on my computer…
3. Seriously. Read my last post. This song makes me want to punch pandas.
It’s unfair that I don’t get to hate Hey There Delilah because it’s stupid or overplayed but rather I have to hate it because that summer I was in New York and telling you how every girl wanted her boyfriend to call her and sing it and how none of them would because that’s STUPID and how you learned the song and called me and played it and then you said “Oh, no. No, no.”
Pretty much the bulk of my Midterm Chapbook for Poets’ Theatre (which I refuse to punctuate the way my professor does: WiTh AlTerNatINg CaPS). I’m actually kind of proud of how this is going. I’m using my own photography and the layout is looking pretty nice. And the title is here is something so that’s…something.
silly,
COME VISIT ME, WHAT THE FUCK. THANK YOU. WE CAN HOLD HANDS DOWN BROADWAY AND DO CUTE STUFF. OKAY? SOUNDS GOOD. I WANT TO MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH THIS CITY, IN LOVE WITH ME.
— me
hahaha this is totally something I would say (but didn’t).
The short of it is that I think I love you. The long would just take too much time to explain.
Look! I can buy a lens cleaning pen for just $15! Great! I can also just use my glasses cloth that I got for free. But if I need to clean my full frame sensor (which has a big splotch on it right now) it costs $40 for only 12. Bluh.
(Ballantine and Snow)
In iron cellswe all start
as a speck
nobody notices us
but some may hope
we’re there
some count days and waitwe grow
in a cell that spreads
like a summer cold
to other people
they notice and laugh
some are happy
some wish to stop
our movementwe kick and move
are stubborn and demanding
completely inside
the systemthey put us in a cell
to make us behave
never realizing it’s from cells
we have escaped
and we will be born
from their iron cells
new people with a new cry
I have studied the science of good-byes,
the bare-headed laments of night.
The waiting lengthens as the oxen chew.
In the town the last hour of the watch.
And I have bowed to the knell of night in the rooster’s throat
when eyes red with crying picked up their burden
of sorrow and looked into the distance
and the crying of women and the Muses’ song became one.Who can tell from the sound of the word ‘parting’
what kind of bereavements await us,
what the rooster promises with his loud surprise
when a light shows in the Acropolis,
dawn of a new life,
the ox still swinging his jaw in the outer passage,
or why the rooster, announcing the new life,
flaps his wings on the ramparts?A thing I love is the action of spinning:
the shuttle fluttering back and forth, the hum of the spindle,
and look, like a swan’s down floating toward us,
Delia, the barefoot shepherdess, flying—
o indigence at the root of our lives,
how poor is the language of happiness!
Everything’s happened before and will happen again,
but still the moment of each meeting is sweet.Amen. The little transparent figure
lies on the clean earthen plate
like a squirrel skin being stretched.
A girl bends to study the wax.
Who are we to guess at the hell of the Greeks?
Wax for women, bronze for men:
our lot falls to us in the field, fighting,
but to them death comes as they tell fortunes.
