Call this one more innumerable reason why something like poetry matters in a real, tangible way: it reminds me that language is both one of the places where our most fulfilling relationships with the world begin, and also one of the places where our most vicious and cruel breakdowns within the world take root.

Ordinary Plots: William Ward Butler's "Logistics"

..but through the weird side door of trying to make the language about him more interesting, pretty soon "like" and "dislike" become almost useless phrases. You are him. You have been him. Specificity negates judgment.

George Saunders Says Ditching These Three Delusions Can Save You

Weiner: (Referring to Feynman’s journals) And so this represents the record of the day-to-day work.
Feynman: I actually did the work on the paper.
Weiner: That s right. It wasn’t a record of what you had done but it is the work.
Feynman: It’s the doing it — it’s the scrap paper.
Weiner: Well, the work was done in your head but the record of it is still here.
Feynman: No, it’s not a record, not really, it’s working. You have to work on paper and this is the paper. OK?

Richard Feynman, interviewed by Charles Weiner via Andy Matuschak

Wheezes
Rhonchi
Pleural rub
Crackles
Strider
Expletives

Strong sun
Outcropped
rock. Quiet
without clocks.

Walks and what
not.

The loon
a tic. A trick. That snide
bully. Sadistic. Hen
pecked
twisted
wreck.

Slow rain day
drops hovering in the wet
air, like so many
small things everywhere.

Looking for transcendence
wasn't how you should
start these conversations.

But I was desperate and
overladen with goods.
None of them good.

He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea.

— Henry David Thoreau

Minding his business, pulling dinner from a grocery bag…

Jaimie: Look at those colors. That’s definitely your bag.
Me: Actually, it’s Heather’s.
Jaimie: Ok, whatever. Are those unicorns?!
Me: Yeah.
Jaimie: This just keeps getting better.

2006

I only know how to approach a place by walking. For what does a street photographer do but walk and watch and wait and talk, and then watch and wait some more, trying to remain confident that the unexpected, the unknown, or the secret heart of the known awaits just around the corner.

— Alex Webb, (Under a Grudging Sun)

As an older man
constantly running
on a treadmill

I have learned
to sit and be still.

It started by stopping
and sitting by the ocean
or walking amongst
the trees and focusing

They tell me they are
so busy they have no

time to relax. Perhaps
I said that too, conveying
an image of success.

How silly I was.

Patient: Well, I don’t like your socks.
Doctor: Some people like pineapples, some people don’t.

That’s the thing with poetry—you have all this freedom because no one gives a shit.

— Matthew Rohrer via The Creative Independent

There is so much to do this todo
list unfurls like a todo list of
lists unfurling todo lists
of todo lists unfurling
todo lists of todo
lists unfurling
a todo list of
todo lists
in todo
lists.

Patient: THIS ER IS THE WORST ISLAND IN THE ODYSSEY!

A boy in hair
Like lava, ambles toward
another nearly as tall. Arms
aimed like cobras.

Nearly as tall, cooly
pours Gatorade into a cap
& lingers with a rye smile
I’ve been practicing karate.

Weather: Cold day, dark overcast
Over everything. Behind overheard
Over nine-hundred square feet!
then a story a retelling maybe.

Bright belts on black uniforms,
a kaleidoscope, is what you say.
If you blur your eyes. It takes
at least that to take in the color.

My buddy says some voice
once then drifts. Away. Words
on waves of sound like serpentine
belts in an operation of meaning.

When suddenly, on the far side
of class, a belt goes undone, held
wide in surprised arms, a perfect arc.
The problem now is the tying.

Late day light,
slivers of which
chiaroscuro
the basement dojo.

Exposed pipes running
lengthwise along the ceiling
above moms, probably
a grandma, too.

Mopheads in gi
and little bare feet
somersault attack
no particular target.

When I found the end, I felt
relief. Real relief. I mean I

                  walked all this way

to the windows, so wide and bright.
Ending at the view.

You were referred to us, and we think you're outstanding.

Ambrosia ambrosia ambrosia
ambrosia; ambrosia

                                        ambrosia

Ambrosia ambrosia
ambrosia ambrosia

Ambrosia

2. Cold North Reaches
3. Steaming Jungles
4. Swamps or Marshland
5. High High Mountains
6. The Empty Plains
7. An Otherwise Nice Place
8. Some Distant City
9. Wild Rivertown
10. The Harsh/Lush Desert
11. Faraway Islands
12. Torn Hellscape

July 26, 2024, 11:15 am
Location: Zone B
Weather: Outside sunny, with passing clouds

Two screens near me, one a little closer.
Desk items sift around, like a tide.
Man climbs into a bed. Climbs in.
The subtle hiss of hidden machines.
One small dollap of spit at the edge of the keyboard. Wiped away by my ring finger, freed from the pencil.
Every cable looped casually, almost beautiful.
Windows in windows in this monitor.
Reflections in reflections in reflections in actual windows.
There's a lot of strong glass around me.
The flicker of light, on the floor, seen in the security camera. It's amber.
Double click locks.
Soft knock of crises worker on door.
Mumbled response to cheerful questions.
The light changes in subtle shifts of brightness. Clouds passing, surely.
Looking through safety glass, through more safety glass.
Heavy hand on head. Worry?
The creak of the chair. Weight shifting.
The shadow of my hand, on these notes, lit by the outside.

An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris by Georges Perec via Poetry Foundation

It never took off.

When you’re humbled and struck
down by chance before given
back unwound and unleavened.

While on islands outward sirens
gathering rancid and unwanted,
to sing those

        long

                  nauseous

      octaves.

An influencer and her husband
made sunscreen and toothpaste
from scratch. Experts
have thoughts.
4 MIN READ

Hopefully.

        but wait, how

The spring is undeniable and I'm in love with a woman who knows the names of things.

Fen, she texts with a dictionary link
...thinking about words that are related to spring time
and vernal pools...
and spring peepers in vernal pools
blood root will be blooming soon
and starflowers 💫

She hard stops her bicycle on Vermont gravel roads to investigate what I now see, bursting from the ground everywhere.

heard the first wood thrush of the season!!

I hate security questions
It had been blue
Found it in the wreckage
Joy, jumping notwithstanding
Dovetail into summer(s) day
I have no choice, at this computer
He rolled his lawnmower
Surrender (to) your nature
Common Grackle