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pastura

i've never been home

Member Since 2006

Followers 34 Following 17

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Thursday Aug 17, 2006

Aug 17, 2006
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I came home in the broodingest of broods and was going to forego calling my friend over for another installment of the LWord (I freaking hate that she got me addicted to these DVDs, but I so so love them!) to write instead, and then I got the hiccups. Kind of puts a damper on the dark poetry. Instead, you get a super long entry and a dark unfinished poem I wrote at work today. How lucky are you!

Here is Susan Sarandon:

Here is Susan Sarandon if painter Egon Shiele had his way with her:


I am going to sandwich the darkness. There will be something happier after this: There has been a bit of drama at home this week as we just found out my beautiful, active, health-conscious mother has pretty nasty coronary artery disease. She'd been having some strange symptoms that were starting to get better, and she almost blew off this cardiac catheterization they scheduled for her on Tuesday. While they were doing the whole dye-in-the-bloodstream thing, they found out she had a 90% blockage in one of the three main arteries in her heart, and two significant blockages in a lesser branch of one of the other arteries. They put a stent in the first one immediately. The other two, the doctors decided, would be too dangerous to work on right now. There is not a single thing in her lifestyle that she can change to make the situation any better - she's that freaking healthy already - aside from taking some pills to slow the progress of plaque buildup. It just goes to show that genetics can always trump your best efforts. The worst part: In that sickeningly off-handed way health professionals have, they basically told her she could have a small heart attack from those other blockages anytime.

SPOILERS! (Click to view)
i am desperate
to look at her hand.
i want to chart its territory
the way i saw them
chart the rivers of her heart.
a stop here, damming up,
there open and flowing.
i want to see the lines unbroken
on the secret scenery of her palm.

at age eleven, i traced
the ancient landscape
of her knuckles with eyes
open to the imminent shade of death.
i saw time reflected
in the unabashed blue of those veins,
felt it flowing past
in delicate tributaries
sensitive to a season without rain.

i want to become lost
in the valley of her palm
until i have reached the delta
and am convinced
that the daily sediments and
insufficiencies are not changing
its geography. i want to see
that the source of her blood
and mine is red and eternal and alive.




Last weekend, I went down to old Oxford, OH with another alumni and my love to eat at the world's best restaurant: Kona Bistro. Then we went for a late-night walk around the campus before it is invaded by college kids in another week. That's when we met Gus:







Felt pretty special after witnessing that. I'd never seen that in action before, but we stood there in the dark, cheering him on for probably 20 minutes until it was clear he'd be drying his wings for quite some time. The next morning, we woke up on a farm:





VIEW 20 of 20 COMMENTS
surlymike:
Yes, it was quite interesting to see the split between the "sure, I'd let myself go down on me" and "I'll pass on the I-on-I action" camps. A non-SG member friend of mine suggested that those amenable to the idea were narcissistic, but I'm not sure that I'd agree.

Cows are such pastoral creatures, aren't they? I've only had the chance to pat cow head a few times in my life, but I ought to do it again. Of course, HolaGatita and I are still trying to get the chance to visit this place at some point during the fall. Pigs are cool, too, you know. wink

Damn, the link isn't working at the moment. I hope that it isn't going to close or anything like that.
Aug 23, 2006
ginary:
Thanks for commenting on my set! kiss
Aug 26, 2006

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