Current grove/Fuck a fox


J: “It is not uninteresting (be wary of men who express themselves using litotes).”

I’m working and working, and completely unlike all the previous years of my life, sleeping at least the recommended number of hours. I used to fight against sleep and loved being awake for as long as possible, but now sleep draws me in. Then I am awake and make coffee but forget I’ve made the coffee, leaving it to get cold. Repeat.

I’m reading and reading, and the more I read the more I want to read. So many random titles and themes are thrown at me constantly, so the mix of things is incomprehensible to many, who like to stick with well-trodden paths (that is, some people are strictly fiction, some non-fiction), but I am all over the place. Monday, instead of finishing a project, I grabbed Kingsley Amis’s The Alteration as a quick, spontaneous read after reading about it in The Atlantic. It’s an interesting semi-sci-fi/alt-universe thing with an airship called Edgar Allan Poe and the repeated exclamation: “Fuck a fox!” (Which, in literary terms, always leads my mind back to Kerouac’s The Subterraneans and Mardou Fox, but whatever.)

I’m writing and writing, and something totally different from what I had imagined. It’s also collaborative, which is entirely new for me, and that makes the process more energetic and speedy.

january doubts and considerations


-15 ? January 2017

Talked Down

I talked myself out (of you)
No more nuzzled into the illusion of
Warm cortázar freedom we, or I, thought we invented together,
A sanctuary knitted from imagined closeness,
cushioning a prison of expectation.
After all – everything is temporary, and
you cannot live and keep free of briars”.

You talked down (to me)
How could I possibly understand the cessation –
the pressures, stagnation and pains of decoupling,
so ungrounding, so confusing –
How could a wandering wallflower know a thing about this?

Requiring a bump-in-road respite,
hitting hard the (un)reality of running hot and cold,
extolling the grandeur and extraterrestrial brand one moment
following with an all-told, lump-sum tabulation of
your earth(l)y needs and concerns the next.

My “law brain”,
plastic in its adherence to how things should go,
melting when they don’t.
My heart bought a subscription that
my brain cancelled abruptly, without consultation.
Fallen as hard out as I had in,
toasting this familiar indifference.
I intend to do as ever: live.

Image is of an amazing cushion made by my dear friend Lóa.