"On the outskirts of every agony sits some observant fellow who points." --Virginia Woolf
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Poetry Corner (apologies, I am no poet)
1. i type my name in the blank space agree to the terms of services, click, send, and no going back! my spine is tight i feel like a roly poly in a ball of discomfort about to bounce back and crawl again to better spaces than behind this white screen are you numb from the voyeurism yet? the screen asks in its best stephen hawking impression colon, hyphen, lowercase "l"
2. is this house too dirty? or too sterile my senses aren't what they used to be but up there in the woods on a hilltop among pine, eucalyptus and others clean dirt and crisp morning air you can taste! my insides are one with the outsides and i don't feel much like dusting just waving my flashlight around in the dark truths revealing themselves in the spotlight
3. i watched a creature go into cardiac arrest found in a drop of tap water sprawled under a microscope in a biology class i was a youth i remember how it scrambled panicked-- on a circular, circus arena of minute proportions my heart sank at our shared spectacle i felt foolish and naive heart sinking life and death were the same in that moment and so it forever will be, i thought
I am uncommonly mobile; I have circumnavigated the globe eight times, walking amazing distances. Through the South Island of New Zealand to the Southern Alps. From Chile to the Andes in Argentina. Across the Serengeti in Africa. I made 300 ascents of mountains 10,000 ft. tall or more, including the Matterhorn, Mont Blanc, and Kilimanjaro. I traveled alone, aided only by my porters, sketching volcanos and collecting wildflowers along the way.