Aging Hippies, Part III: 2006年1月

M 的个人资料Aging Hippies, Part III日志列表

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1月31日

Cosmic Game Show

I may have pissed my life away

making the wrong turn at the wrong times

making deals with the wrong devils,

but I like the view from here.

If sitting on the edge of this abyss with me,

the one of my own choosing,

frightens you

remember we're not tied with ropes.

You can choose door number 1 or 2 or 3

at any time,

and I won't ask if that's your

final answer.

cas (2006)

1月27日

Doing Darwin

Natural Selection

Her cats patrol the yard

domesticated lions

with no front claws

organic radar in full

acquire and identify mode

tinned tuna in their housebroken ruffs

and feral memories

that food should move

that nourishment

requies the chase and red paws

blood still warm

heart beating.

Watching this animal death dance

during January thaw

leads me to only one important conclusion:

as displaced city dwellers we've personally verified

the concept of survival of the fittest

breeding a line of the world's slowest cats

or the fastest squirrels in New York State.

cas (January 2006)

1月26日

My husband gives me an A
for last night's supper,
an incomplete for my ironing,
a B plus in bed.
My son says I am average,
an average mother, but if
I put my mind to it
I could improve.
My daughter believes
in Pass/Fail and tells me
I pass. Wait 'til they learn
I'm dropping out.

Linda Pastan

1月17日

It's a Roger Waters Thing

When things get too damned strange, even for me, I turn to Roger Waters and the best album he ever made, Amused To Death

Perfect Sense, Part I

The monkey sat on a pile of stones
And he stared at the broken bone in his hand
And the strains Viennese quartet
Rang out across the land
The monkey looked up at the stars
And he thought to himself
Memory is a stranger
History is for fools
And he cleaned his hands
In a pool of holy writing
Turned his back on the garden
And set out for the nearest town
Hold on hold on soldier
When you add it all up
The tears and marrowbone
There's an ounce of gold
And an ounce of pride in each ledger
And the Germans killed the Jews
And the Jews killed the Arabs
And Arabs killed the hostages
And that is the news
And is it any wonder
That the monkey's confused
He said Mama Mama
The President's a fool
Why do I have to keep reading
These technical manuals
And the joint chiefs of staff
And the brokers on Wall Street said
Don't make us laugh
You're smart kid
Time is linear
Memory's a stranger
History's for fools
Man is a tool in the hands
Of the great God Almighty
And they gave him command
Of a nuclear submarine
And sent him back in search of
The Garden of Eden

1月7日

Please Plant This Book

Helen provided an outrageously great link for reading the eight short poems collected in Richard Brautigan's early work, "Please Plant This Book." Thanks Helen, you saved me some typing. If you are interested in reading these poems, click here.

1月6日

Brautigan's "Please Plant This Book"

This is my most treasured object. Richard Brautigan's "Please Plant This Book." It is a folder consisiting of eight seed packets, each printed with a poem. I will post the poems soon. The seed packets are unopened. The "book" is extremely rare as you can imagine. I just bought it. What a rush this is.

1月1日

Richard Brautigan's First Book

Richard's first book, The Return of the Rivers, was published in San Francisco in May of 1957 and consisted of one poem, reproduced below. Only 100 copies were published. I've never seen a copy for sale.

You will recognise the first verse as Ecclesiastes 1:7 (King James version). You also will recognise the poem as pure Brautigan, though it was written in the 50's.

___________________________________________________________________________

The Return of The Rivers

All the rivers run into the sea;
yet the sea is not full;
unto the place from whence the rivers come,
thither they return again.

It is raining today
in the mountains.

It is a warm green rain
with love
in its pockets
from sping is here
and does not dream
of death.

Birds happen music
like clocks ticking heaves
in a land
where children love spiders,
and let them sleep
in their hair.

A slow rain sizzles
on the river
like a pan
full of frying flowers,
and with each drop
of rain
the ocean
begins again.