Really, they're twins...

SLOW DANCE



More than putting another man on the moon,
more than a New Year’s resolution of yogurt and yoga,
we need the opportunity to dance
with really exquisite strangers. A slow dance
between the couch and dinning room table, at the end
of the party, while the person we love has gone
to bring the car around
because it’s begun to rain and would break their heart
if any part of us got wet. A slow dance
to bring the evening home, to knock it out of the park. Two people
rocking back and forth like a buoy. Nothing extravagant.
A little music. An empty bottle of whiskey.
It’s a little like cheating. Your head resting
on his shoulder, your breath moving up his neck.
Your hands along her spine. Her hips
unfolding like a cotton napkin
and you begin to think about how all the stars in the sky
are dead. The my body
is talking to your body slow dance. The Unchained Melody,
Stairway to Heaven, power-cord slow dance. All my life
I’ve made mistakes. Small
and cruel. I made my plans.
I never arrived. I ate my food. I drank my wine.
The slow dance doesn’t care. It’s all kindness like children
before they turn four. Like being held in the arms
of my brother. The slow dance of siblings.
Two men in the middle of the room. When I dance with him,
one of my great loves, he is absolutely human,
and when he turns to dip me
or I step on his foot because we are both leading,
I know that one of us will die first and the other will suffer.
The slow dance of what’s to come
and the slow dance of insomnia
pouring across the floor like bath water.
When the woman I’m sleeping with
stands naked in the bathroom
,
brushing her teeth, the slow dance of ritual is being spit
into the sink. There is no one to save us
because there is no need to be saved.
I’ve hurt you. I’ve loved you. I’ve mowed
the front yard. When the stranger wearing a shear white dress
covered in a million beads
comes toward me like an over-sexed chandelier suddenly come to life,
I take her hand in mine. I spin her out
and bring her in. This is the almond grove
in the dark slow dance.
It is what we should be doing right now. Scrapping
for joy. The haiku and honey. The orange and orangutang slow dance.

Matthew Dickman


and

Seeing Whales
by Michael Dickman


You can go blind, waiting



Unbelievable quiet

except for their

soundings



Moving the sea around



Unbelievable quiet inside you, as they change

the face of water



The only other time I felt this still was watching Leif shoot up when we were

twelve



Sunlight all over his face



breaking

the surface of something

I couldn’t see



You can wait your

whole life



_____



The Himalayas are on the move, appearing and disappearing in the snow in

the Himalayas



Mahler

begins to fill

the half-dead auditorium

giant step by

giant step



The Colorado

The Snake

The Salmon



My grandfather walks across the front porch

spotted with cancer, smoking

a black cigar



The whales fold themselves back and back inside the long hallways of salt



You have to stare back at the salt

the sliding mirrors

all day



just to see something

maybe



for the last time



_____



By now they are asleep

some are asleep

on the bottom of the world

sucking the world in

and blowing it out

in wave-

lengths



Radiant ghosts



Leif laid his head back on a pillow and waited for all the blood inside him

to flush down a hole



After seeing whales what do you see?


The hills behind the freeway


power lines


green, green

grass


the green sea

anything worth doing is worth doing badly

Failing and Flying
by Jack Gilbert

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.

Exactly where we're from

I suppose thanksgiving, on top of being about eating crazy amounts of food, is about being thankful. Here are some things I am thankful for.

Family
Friends
my home
exploring
travel
the Camino
my cat (some days)
learning new things
curiosity
climbing and building and roaming
bicycles
music
sunshine
rain
laugher

I am thankful for the fact that I have friends covering the world that would put me up at a moments notice, that let me call them, email them, chat with them, that mostly always respond (sometimes promptly) that give me reasons to write and laugh and decompress. For the fact that I am lucky enough to have a family that allows me all the same things, that I am always happy to see, that call and listen and allow me to complain when it is necessary.

I am thankful that I have all that I do, that I have a warm, comfortable apartment (regardless of its location) that I have food and music and the luxury of time and money to explore.

I am thankful. And occasionally filled with contentment and patience. I am occasionally filled with joy. And once in awhile recounting those things is probably good for me.

Call me on your way back home

It has been good, busy, I'm excited for break, and even more excited to be home for Christmas. Everything is busy but I'm not particularly behind, which is nice. It's getting chilly and raining today and it feels like Amsterdam and Spain and not much like home at all.

I think I am going to apply for a fellowship for people working doing research involving the African Diaspora, which could be good, but I don't think I stand much of a chance in getting it, we'll see though, I have no idea of how many people apply, etc. Saturday I spent at home reading fiction and watching movies, which was amazingly lovely. Friday night we went out to Sushi for a friends birthday, which was nice.

All and all things are good. I've decided I'm going to Spain again in May, unless something makes that legitimately impossible. I'm already having dreams about it...

Amazing

Can I be too tired to blog?

So this week was draining and exhausting and I realized that Worcester is in fact that bad and is in itself somewhat exhausting and stressful for me, so I went to Boston today. It was lovely, it was a real city, it made me happy. A group of us went to brunch at a very nice place in Cambridge, and had tasty, tasty food. And then me and two other friends wandered around Cambridge for five hours, we went shopping, and got ice cream at my favorite ice cream place in the world. It was amazing, partially exhausting (my feet hurt and I'm tired) and it was soo soo nice to get out of here and to there. Christine and I have decided that we will make full effort to make sure it happens at least every other week, if not more.

Last week I did a lot of readings, and had a lot of group meetings, and Nick and I finally got around to setting up the slack line and playing with that. Which, turns out, is not something I am capable of doing. But is something that I want to keep working at because maybe someday. Friday night a friend and I went out to dinner and had burgers :) and then a group of us went to a house party. Non eventful and not very exciting either. Saturday Igor and I watched a movie, which was mostly bad, although had movements of good. And today, in all its brilliance, was spent in Boston.

And now I'm tired, and planning on having a nice dark beer and watching CSI Miami for a while, then sleep. Sounds lovely.

When the cold, the dark, and the silence come

So I finished one mid-term this morning and went out to pizza lunch with a friend to celebrate. It was nice, I really like her and we talked about how strange it is to work your way into a new group of friends, how everyone is dancing around each other and how are friend groups back home are painfully over comfortable, and how we miss that. It was lovely to get to have a conversation with someone here about these things, I forget sometimes that everyone in my new friend group is missing people somewhere, because no one is from here.

Over the course of this weekend and the beginning of next week I have to write another mid-term, register for next semesters classes, meet for two group projects (and actually have some things achieved to bring and discuss), teach ESL, and read a shit load of articles. I'm ready for Thanksgiving, I'm not going home, which is fine, but I'm ready for some days off. I'm sure I'll have to work through it, but it will feel slightly like a vacation at least. I was supposed to go into Boston tomorrow for a show, but I don't think it will be happening anymore, which is okay because I have so much to do, but sad because I want to go hang out in Boston.

I took today off from work, mostly, at least once I finished what was due today. After friend lunch I came home and watched tv on hulu for an hour and then cleaned my house. So I managed to not think but still achieve, which was amazing because my house was not at all clean, and it's nice to feel somewhat organized again. Like I know where at least some things are.

And now, happy hour :) Some nights just aren't meant for getting things done, and it's fall like I feel like MN doesn't have fall anymore, sunny and warmish and fresh and lovely. So happy hour and fall and maybe the ability to not think about school for 8 -10 hours.

and thanks for the trouble you took from her eyes, I thought it was there for good so I never even tried

the way the violent overflow of rain over cliffs
cleans the sewers and drains of Ithaca
whose waterfalls head my list, followed by
crudites of carrots and beets, roots and all,
with rained-on radishes, too beautiful to eat,
and the pure pleasure of talking, talking and not knowing
where the talk will lead, but willing to take my chances.


Part of Shake the Superflux! by David Lehman

I seem calm to others but often feel feral

and school is picking up, slowly hitting a pace where I feel urgent, and urgent means I achieve. Which is okay, so far it's okay. Because urgent and achieving means I feel like I'm in school again for the first time since I started school again. And that is good, mostly good, maybe entirely good. It is at least good enough to keep me moving forward.

It is about to be Halloween weekend, one of my favorite holidays probably simply because it requires so little preparation and is generally nothing but fun. Plus I get to dress up and drink and laugh a lot, and what possible way to waste a weekend is better then that.

There is still confusion, there is still hecticness, but really, if I settle into school for two years very little else will matter. And anyways, I can only be self indulgent for so long.

Notes to remember: just because you support gay marriage, doesn't mean you need to be gay. jen bervin - post-modern poet, whatever that means. Part wind and part wolf. and maybe a text tattoo will be necessary before I stop getting them all together. Maybe.

storage space again

frida kahlo to marty mcconnell |
by marty mcconnell


leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses,
you make him call before
he visits, you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.

sometimes I think sitting on trains

I had a good weekend. It was a little blurry and a little crazy, but really quite excellent. Friday I spent all day at home nursing a cold and watching bad tv online. And Saturday I achieved things for the afternoon and then went over to a friends house for dinner. Before, during, and after which we proceeded to drink large amounts of whiskey and rum. Then a group of us moved on to a party partially put on by idce and danced for a couple of hours. After that we went on a slightly awkward bar crawl. Post bar crawl we wandered around worcester, looked at lots of photos and climbed buildings (or I watched, others climbed). Got in a debate about development, the borders of which are slightly unclear to me today, and after partially falling asleep on a kitchen table got to have a sleep over. Woke up almost painfully hungover this morning and got to go lie in the yard and sun bask for awhile.

Sadly my hangover prevented me from achieving much over the course of today, which I will have to make up for tomorrow, but all in all a weekend that made me feel slightly like I was 19 and fucking crazy again (except in a more stable, I'm older now kinda way). And now I'm talking to an old friend from home and he's making me happy, as always.

storage space

http://www.sweetlit.com/poem_joe_wilkins_spiritual.html

because sometimes I find random things I want to keep

Daughter, by Nicole Blackman
One day I'll give birth to a tiny baby girl
and when she's born she'll scream and I'll make sure
she never stops.

I will kiss her before I lay her down
and will tell her a story so she knows
how it is and how it must be for her to survive.

I'll tell her about the power of water
the seduction of paper
the promise of gasoline
and the hope of blood.

I'll teach her to shave her eyebrows and
mark her skin.
I'll teach her that her body is her greatest work of art.

I'll tell her to light things on fire
and keep them burning.
I'll teach her that the fire will not consume her,
that she must take it and use it.

I'll tell her to be tri-sexual to try anything,
to sleep with, fight with, pray with anyone,
just as long as she feels something.

I'll help her to do her best work when it rains.
I'll tell her to reinvent herself every 28 days.

I'll teach her to develop all of her selves,
the courageous ones,
the smart ones,
the dreaming ones,
the fast ones.
I'll teach her that she has an army inside her
that can save her life.

I'll tell her to say Fuck like other people say the word The
and when people are shocked
to ask them why they so fear a small quartet
of letters.

I'll make sure she always carries a pen
so she can take down the evidence.
If she has no paper, I'll teach her to
write everything down on her tongue,
write it on her thighs.

I'll help her to see that she will not find God
or salvation in a dark-brick building
built by dead men.

I'll explain to her it's better to regret the things
she has done than the things she hasn't.

I'll teach her to write her manifestos
on cocktail napkins.

I'll say she should make men lick her enterprise.
I'll teach her to talk hard.
I'll tell her that her skin is the
most beautiful dress she will ever wear.

I'll tell her that people must earn the right
to use her nickname,
that forced intimacy is an ugly thing.

I'll make her understand that she is worth more
with her clothes on.

I'll tell her that when the words finally flow too fast
and she has no use for a pen
that she must quit her job
run out of the house in her bathrobe,
heaving the door open.
I'll teach her to follow the words.

I'll tell her to stand up
and head for the door
after she makes love.
When he asks her
to stay she'll say
she's got to
go.

I'll tell her that when she firsts bleeds
when she is a woman,
to go up to the roof at midnight,
reach her hands up to the sky and, scream.

I'll teach her to be whole, to be holy,
to be so much that she doesn't even
need me anymore.

I'll tell her to go quickly and never come back
I will make her stronger than me.

I'll say to her never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember

never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember

never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.

nothing clever today

It snowed. Yesterday, most of the day. Nothing stuck to the ground, so at least that is okay, but every time I looked out the window from my warm spot curled up on the couch and reading about the World Bank, it was snowing these giant, fluffy flakes, and it was too much. I would have stayed in all day, but I had reading group, which was fine but not horribly exciting. After reading group I went to a friends house for some food and talking, it was nice also, he'd been out of town for a week so we got to catch up, but I ended up not getting home until 12:30 and still having to write a short paper for today.

And today is turning out to be terrifying, because we are getting grades back for our first (and only so far) paper in our theory class. I haven't gotten my grade yet, but of the two people I know who have one got 6/10 and one got 7/10. Those are not great odds, which makes me very very nervous. So now I am impatiently waiting to hear how I did, and am rather scared it is badly.

We are getting into mid-terms, which makes me nervous, and means I will be overwhelmingly busy for a while. Soon. But then it is Halloween, which is nothing but fun, no matter what state I'm in. And I'm going to be a pirate!

I had six too many drinks last night,

I got back home again, after a long weekend in Disney with the family. I forget sometimes that despite the fact that I love my family and get along with them well we have moments where I don't remember why. My mom and my sister are getting along less well, I think it's only been accented by me moving. I'm normally there for my mother to get mad at, frustrated with, annoyed by. And now that I am gone she only has my sister to interact with. I worry about her sometimes, I hope she figures out something that makes her happy soon, because I'm wowrried that if she doesn't she will just become more and more dissatisfied and combative.

And then my sister got sick. And grumpy. So I had a grumpy mother and a grumpy sister and I just wanted to run around disney and enjoy every minute of the too hot to think amazing weather. I just wanted to soak it all in. And that becomes harder to do with a sick and grumpy family. Two more months of here before I need to see them again, hopefully everyone is in a better mood next time.

I have been listening to this album on repeat, but mostly this song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4v8FJhQ-teE

once you caused my cells to shimmer

The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world. -F. Scott Fitzgerald

I am aching to sort my life out well enough that I am content with it. Aching to solidify my plans, find a place for next summer, or spend it walking if I get my way. I am content with certain aspects of my life, but feel like I am not achieving what I should be. I am still allowing myself to take a weekend off. I don't feel that I have necessarily earned it, so much as I feel that I need it in order to reapply myself to my life here.

I want a city to love, a city I can drown it. I do not dislike here, so much as it does not inspire the wanderer in me, it doesn't inspire tracing my life out across the streets like lines on a paper, like writing. I miss walking, I miss the ability to walk aimlessly, and I may start again anyway, I may start because it feels wrong not doing so. I may start because I feel that I will soon question my sanity anyway, am already questioning my desires, and I feel like I need something to ground me to here. My feet on the pavement have always been relatively good at doing that.

So a weekend away, wandering around the happiest place on earth, around a place that makes me happy, with family that I love and miss. And then home again home again, to an apartment I love in a city that may never feel like home. Two years is not so long though, and time always passes quickly these days. I will get a job, I will do more work, I will go out less, I will care less what people think of me, I will try to recreate the feeling I had at the end of the camino. I will try to recreate the feeling of patience, of knowing what I want.

I'm collecting again

Or maybe I just want to start, I have no where else to keep lists, so I figure here is as good as anywhere.

My new favorite sound, for now at least, is the sound of someone biting into an apple. Also the sound of walking through leaves on the ground. I suppose those are both sounds of fall, so maybe this is simply my way of accepting fall into my heart.

Today was crazy, which is kinda sad, because normally my Wednesdays are nice and calm and I can achieve a lot. Today, I tabled for my friend for save the hikers, I went to orientation part two, which managed to freak me out about the next two years of my life. Completely freak me out. I then went to a book release for one of the professors at my school, had a glass of wine, went to the actual vigil, went home to change and went and played soccer for an hour. After soccer I went and watched a movie about permaculture, which was neat.

And now my wednesday is over, mostly, and I am amazingly exhausted, and I achieved nothing of my readings for the week yet. But tomorrow I'm sure I will do nothing but.

Currently watching the local news to see if the vigil made it on or not.

when the length of her body sheltered the length of my body, it was the first time I'd not felt homesick

http://community.livejournal.com/theysaid/1527307.html

I can care less what you think

So really, not much is new or occurring at all. School seems to be panning out to an even level of busy and not busy. Which is becoming comfortable, which is good. I made dinner tonight and had a couple of friends over, which was also nice. I am slowly becoming comfortable with the people that surround me.

It is becoming fall, I went on a hike at one of the largest resevoirs that serves Boston. It was beautiful but largely anti-climatic because it didn't take much effort and I wanted to be exhausted. And nothing, and nothing.

It is becoming fall and I am slowly adjusting.

and we were galloping manic...

I never realized it would be fall that was difficult for me. That it would be the coming of fall that would make my breath catch in my chest with the missing of them. And maybe it's because fall is my favorite season, maybe fall always catches my breath, throws me for a loop with nostalgia, maybe its not just that I'm far away and disconnect from everything that they are.

It's been five years of friendship, 10 years of friendship, and it's always difficult to realize that it will never be the same again, that I may never go back, that the fact that I don't talk to them on the phone may mean I will slowly stop talking to them all together.

And I have stuff here, piles of reading that could eventually drown me, hiking in more woods then I've seen in years, new friends. But I miss him telling me he loves me, and I miss happy hour, and I miss karaoke, miss not singing.

We will see how this pans out. We will see how long of a two years this stacks up to be, there is a lot left to be determined. But I mostly hope that in this move I don't lose all of them. That he isn't in India when I go home for christmas, that I have at least a couple of years left with them.

There is so much left to figure out, but it is fall. And all I want is to sit around a bonfire fifteen feet high and luminous. All I want is to enjoy it.

way too much stuff to carry so it's probably time to settle down

Somedays I realize that a life in transition is not the best life. That learning a new city is only really exciting when it's a city worth learning. That having people to explore with is one of the main parts, and that for me, it takes awhile to become comfortable enough with people to explore with them. I am getting closer to deciding that I want to be anti-social. That I want to do my readings and chat occasionally and mostly curl up on my couch with the cat.

I don't ever know what gets me in and out of those ruts. School will be hectic, and good, and crazy. And sometimes, like right now, I don't know if I have the perfect way to balance that all out. But I'm sure it will all fall into place. And Worcester will just be Worcester, and in 3 and a half months I'll be back in MN visiting. And we will just have to see where it goes from here.

Boo

Sometimes catching up on gossip from the hometown is exactly what is necessary.

My Grandmother told me once that a city has enough windows for everybody. I still want to believe her.

The last day of August, although not literally it feels like the last day of summer, even though it doesn't feel much like summer here right now. I am still adjusting to a new city, still trying to avoid sitting at home alone for days on end. School has only kinda started, but I don't really have reading yet, no real assignments, so for now I just have to show up for classes, and even one of those was canceled this week.

Worcester has been okay so far. It is not brilliant, I am still not sure of where I can walk alone at night. But it is okay. I feel safe biking everywhere I need to go, so until winter comes in full swing I will be okay.

We are setting up camping weekends, and retreat weekends, and whatever else. I am entertained by my new associates. I am hoping to make a friend or two out of the grouping. I am hoping to not be bored. I may have found a volunteer position helping teach African Refugees in Worcester, I'm going in to meet with a classmate who works there next week. It should be good.

It is always interesting to establish home in a new city. Finding places to go, people to pass time with. And tomorrow, back to the amazing park that has loads of puppies running around, and lunch with classmates. And something to do.

If you come back bring a new name for everything

I am moved. I am settling into a new home in a new city that I know nothing about and that I am slightly afraid of. I will learn to navigate it. I will pull out my bike tomorrow and bike the six blocks to a bar to get drinks with a new classmate. I will continue to watch movies with my cat while it rains outside, but I will also start to explore. Soon, I swear.

Mostly so far it has been unpacking, building things, carrying 100's of pounds of crap up three flights of stairs and trying to make a home out of the empty apartment I moved into a week ago. I left Minneapolis a week ago, with the oddly distressing realization that I will very possibly never call that city home again. That any time I go back I will simply be a visitor.

I read over an old notebook earlier today, all about walking in Spain and visiting Amsterdam, the city that feels more like home to me than anywhere else so far. And now I want to be walking in Spain again, to extend so much energy that I have no options at the end of the night but sleep. To create histories for strangers and television shows with no purpose and only minor plot, I want to e-mail John about eagle boy and cheetah girl but I don't know if he would remember.

It's funny that when I feel nostalgic for anything it's almost like all my possible nostalgia floats to the surface and I begin to miss things I haven't thought of in ages.

For now, singular days at a time. A farmers market with one farmer, a movie theatre at the end of an industrial warehouse area. A new city to explore.

I am about to start again. I am about to roam around the state that I have lived in for not long enough or too long depending on what day you run into me. I am ready to break up the contentment that has become overwhelming, maybe become to close to settling. I am ready to break this.