Archive for November, 2011

Sunday, November 20th, 2011

 

The breeze is increasing in strength and soon will be

more than a breeze;

 

it will be a wind. And although one should not write against rules

one should fight against fools.

 

Today it’s 23 degrees, the sun is hazy,

the moon is waning crescent, 34% of full,

 

and how little we know.

Saturday, November 19th, 2011

 

I believed in snowmen and bluebirds, or bluebirds

and snowmen, and not much else. Do you feel?

Friday, November 18th, 2011

 

Deterioration of Character (B.C. 329)

Alexander was now twenty-six years of age. He had accomplished fully the great objects which had been the aim of his ambition. Darius was dead, and he was himself the undisputed master of all western Asia. His wealth was almost
boundless. His power was supreme over what was, in his view, the whole known world. But, during the process of rising to this ascendency, his character was sadly changed. He lost the simplicity, the temperance, the moderation, and the sense of justice which characterized his early years. He adopted the dress and the luxurious manners of the Persians. He lived in the palaces of the Persian kings, imitating all their state and splendor. He became very fond of convivial entertainments and of wine, and often drank to excess. He provided himself a seraglio of three hundred and sixty young females, in whose company he spent his time, giving himself up to every form of effeminacy and dissipation. In a word, he was no longer the same man. The decision, the energy of character, the steady pursuit of great ends by prudence, forethought, patient effort, and self-denial, all disappeared; nothing now seemed to interest him but banquets, carousals, parties of pleasure, and whole days and nights spent in dissipation and vice.

Jacob Abbott, from Alexander the Great (1902)

Thursday, November 17th, 2011

 

I yearn for sleep. Once upon a time when fast asleep, I dreamed. My dreams were of a strange people I did not know, and of animals I had never seen. While dreaming, an old woman led me into the land of my ancestors and told me many unlikely stories of my people. Most of these concerned happiness and success. Did I say I yearn for sleep? I was being ironic.

Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

 

3 closures

 

1. and left a note for Mrs. Baxter to say she didn’t have to come and clean any more because he wasn’t there to get the place        dirty.

2. into the distance, and the distance was endless.

3. and that was the end of that.

Tuesday, November 15th, 2011

 

3  openings

 

1. The tall man opened the door and

2. The tall handsome man opened his eyes and

3. The tall handsome doomed man opened the can of worms and

Monday, November 14th, 2011

 

I received a note from Chloë yesterday, inviting me to supper one day next week. But it seems we both have heavy work schedules and it’s going to be difficult to find a day that suits both of us. Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays my evenings are consumed by guilt, Thursday is my family’s traditional day of abstinence, and Friday is Friday. Weekends for me are impossible, what with all my sporting activities. And Chloë says that on top of her work she’s busy looking for a new apartment, one large enough to accommodate what she calls her menagerie. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Indeed, I don’t know who this Chloë person is. I can only assume the note was delivered to the wrong address.

Sunday, November 13th, 2011

 

What’s going to happen today? The Sun is hot but behind the Sun lurks the cold of coming Winter. My Dreams have been disconcerting, but they are after all but Dreams. I’ve been talking to myself pretending Someone Else was there. Perhaps They are. It’s just I can’t see, can’t touch, but when Dawn breaks and I prise my eyelids apart by sheer willpower what do I see? That which I cannot see.

Saturday, November 12th, 2011

 

TO NIGEL PICKARD

 

You know as well as I do

it’s impossible to write about some things

and adequately express how one feels.

However much we value words

and live for words

we know words fail us at the most important times.

 

We can get close, but not close enough.

 

Allow me to be selfish

and say if it goes on like this

there’ll be nobody around to say Goodbye

when it’s my turn.

 

And I’ll tell you something else:

it took about 15 seconds to write

those 11 lines.

Which proves some kind of point, I think.

 

But since I was told

I’ve been walking around numb.

I want to give you one of those poems you love

that crap on for about a page and a half

and you seem to understand them better than I do —

and I wrote the fuckers.

Hey,

I’ll bring you one when I come, okay?

Friday, November 11th, 2011

 

Looking for oysters

 

It’d be good to get lost

and never be found.