Honor Student, La Villita

Upping The Stakes

Seriously, I really do want a high-contrast black & white image of The Fall and Subsequent Resurrection. I have this sexy winter bicycle mask recently AWOLed from the Salvation Army to offer as a prize to the most mostest drawing. Come on, now...you'll be the envy of all 2-5 of your friends.

Scenes From A Day In The Life Of A New Mama

1. Waiting for the MRI photographs, Children's Memorial Hospital, 1st floor, Medical Imaging desk: Finn asleep in his carrier. Me flipping through Organic Gardening learning about vermicompost and reading advertisements for books such as Chickens in Your Backyard. Directly across from us a Goldberg device, teeter totter turtle, balls flipping into dumptrucks, constant movement, up the line, down, pitch and catch between, cat face hovering. To the right of that the fattest pork pie of a baby I've EVER seen (pink sweat suit potpie cheeks so big they scrunch mouth into fishface) with skinny sexy mama in wait and daddy keeps looking at me holding that FAT kiddo. She screams, he pats her soccer ball belly and takes her over to look at the device. To the left of the Goldberg a west Asian dialect loud on the cell phone, dad waiting for mom and kid. A little chunk girl, named Madelyn, says "I don't like clowns!" while pointing at a colored clown picture hung on the desk. I'd already heard one little girl express the same sentiment to her brother who kept tormenting her with a red toy clown nose. Then chunks says, "That clown doesn't have a hat," pointing at the colored clown who, clearly, was wearing a blue hat.


2. Outside sidewalk leaving hospital: Woman in clown suit pink hair offering kid in wheelchair a clown nose. Kid in wheelchair shrinks back, teeth exposed, crying (parents laughing).


3. Waiting for Tow Truck, corner of Harrison & Ogden: Wait in the grass where it's nicer. Finn happy with hungry Gerber baby face, until riding lawn mower disturbs us back to the broke down car, where he metamorphosizes into a red faced gremlin.

Minor Curiosities

Livejournal's spellcheck suggested "wabbits" for "webdesign."

Read My Tea Leaves

Home. : )

Drawring Contest.

Mes deux lecteurs fidèles:

I need you to draw a high-contrast black and white image of The Fall and Subsequent Resurrection.

That is all.

Coming Clean, or I Need To Unshoulder This Heavy Load, or Work in Progress

Thundrin' Jaysus, did you think I'm dead?

Repair. Construction crews necessary on the 8th floor. Bring in the mortar, the bricks, the trowel. Play & replay words like love, growth, saplings, rebuilder, Work in Progress over & over & over again in your mind, on your lips, in his little ears, typed out in neurotic habits your fingers working the letters on a ghost keyboard. Tell him secrets, like You too are my favorite and One day you will try to light ants on fire with a magnifying glass.

Make him promises, S. says, Promise him something for his third birthday just to see if his subconscious captures these moments.

So I whisper to him late night in the NICU ward rocking chair: And on your third birthday we'll build an ant farm out of found glass & alley pallets. We'll go to the beach for some sand & dig around in someone's yard or the boulevards for the ants. Then you can watch them tunnel in and out of their own designs.

Tunnel. Pathways. Mending. Stitching. You can think to yourself This Hurts, or you can think I Breathe In, I Breathe Out, my yoga teacher's voice says. Over & over & over again. Repeated stories of The Fall. Methodologies of hidden codes. Tunnelling. Reworking. Rebuilding. Bring in the neurons, the Okinawan scales, the shameless beatific misery & beauty of Macedonian gypsies, and breathe.

Just so’s you know
On
One side of town
Two children worm tunnels
In a sand dune
For Hot Wheels while
On
Another side of town
Two children build a dune
Out of piles of toy cars
Cards and pick up sticks.

Everyone Should Pray Once In A While,

but nobody does it quite like Leonard Cohen:

O God, Your Morning Is Perfect. People Are Alive In Your World. I Can Hear The Little Children In The Elevator. The Airplane Is Flying Through The Original Blue Air. Mouths Are Eating Breakfast. The Radio Is Filled With Electricity. The Trees Are Excellent. You Are Listening To The Voices Of The Faithless Who Tarry On The Bridge of Spikes. I Have Let Your Spirit Into The Kitchen. The Westclock Is Also Your Idea. The Govemment Is Meek. The Dead Do Not Have To Wait. You Comprehend Why Someone Must Drink Blood. O God, This Is Your Moming. There Is Music Even From A Human Thigh-Bone Trumpet. The Ice-Box Will Be Forgiven. I Cannot Think Of Anything Which Is Not Yours. The Hospitals Have Drawers Of Cancer Which They Do Not Own. The Mesozoic Waters Abounded With Marine Reptiles Which Seemed Eternal. You Know The Details Of The Kangaroo. Place Ville Marie Grows And Falls Like A Flower In Your Binoculars. There Are Old Eggs In The Gobi Desert. Nausea Is An Earthquake In Your Eye. Even The World Has A Body. We Are Watched Forever. In The Midst Of Molecular Violence The Yellow Table Clings To Its Shape. I Am Surrounded By Members Of Your Court. I Am Frightened That My Prayer Will Fall Into My Mind. Somewhere This Morning Agony Is Explained. The Newspaper Says That A Human Embryo Was Found Wrapped In A Newspaper And That A Doctor Is Suspected. I Am Trying To Know You In The Kitchen Where I Sit. I Fear My Small Heart. I Cannot Understand Why My Arm Is Not A Lilac Tree. I Am Frightened Because Death Is Your Idea. Now I Do Not Think It Behooves Me To Describe Your World. The Bathroom Door Is Opening By Itself And I Am Shivering With So Much Fear. O God, I Believe Your Morning Is Perfect. Nothing Will Happen Incompletely. O God, I Am Alone In The Desire Of My Education But A Greater Desire Must Be Lodged With You. I Am A Creature In Your Morning Writing A Lot Of Words Beginning With Capitals. Seven-Thirty In The Ruin Of My Prayer. I Sit Still In Your Morning While Cars Drive Away. O God, If There Are Fiery Joumeys Be With Us In Our Ignorance And Our Wretched Doctrines. We Are All Of Us Tormented With Your Glory. You Have Caused Us To Live On The Crust Of A Star. Catherine Was Mangled Every Hour In Mysterious Machinery. Be With Us This Morning Of Your Time. Be With Us At Eight O'Clock Now. Be With Me As I Lose The Crumbs Of Grace. Be With Me As The Kitchen Comes Back. Please Be With Me Especially While I Poke Around The Radio For Religious Music. Be With Me In The Phases Of My Work Because My Brain Feels Like It Has Been Whipped And I Yearn To Make A Small Perfect Thing Which Will Live In Your Morning Like Curious Static Through A President's Elegy Or A Nude Hunchback Acquiring A Tan On The Crowded Oily Beach.

from Beautiful Losers

F., 6 days.

Finnegan, 1 day old