“Do not be too moral. You may cheat yourself out of much life. Aim above morality. Be not simply good; be good for something.” –Thoreau

29 September 2009

Prose poetry: an attempt.

SITTING IN THE LIVING ROOM WITH 
MY RABBIT DRINKING IN THE DARK

They don’t travel together anymore. Not to bed anyway. Which seems to matter most it seems. And she pretends to care about hurting his feelings which is a lie which doesn’t fool anyone. Anymore. He pretends it doesn’t hurt and that he doesn’t know what he deserves. Only that might not be a lie. If it were like this all the time in the world then I am not sure it is for me. The world. Our rabbit says it isn’t so, but she can only eat what I feed her. When I lay down beside you it makes me think things. That we should leap away, off the world like cows do. I tell you and you think I’m lovely and strange but I worry about it all through the night. You roll over to heat the south end of the bed. I sit up and wonder: To where do you travel now?



28 September 2009

Remembered.

emergency









she calls

to say youre fine


but


       an emergency
took skin from hands and face.





                           you  reck
                           less shit.


13 September 2009

Proof the second book has begun in earnest:

Enaya had to conclude wearily that she simply did not like children. It was a disheartening thought. Every young woman—every normal one, any way—cooed and awed over babies in roughly the same high-pitched nonsense language. Enaya could barely stomach it, let alone participate.

To be fair, Enaya knew that even her own mother raised her voice and waggled her eyebrows when addressing Enaya’s two-year-old nephew, Myllar. He would grin and giggle and play hand-clap games. He would cheerfully devour his winter vegetables. Enaya could see that the strategy worked.  But she still felt silly making galloping knights and flying dragons out of spoonfuls of beets. Even thinking about it later made her grouchy.

Not that she was supposed to be thinking about any of this just now. She was supposed to be praying. High Priestess Savita would be scandalized to hear that the Goddess's own representative to King Solon's Council was thinking about beets at a time like this. It was not precisely holy.