So, I’m behind.
I’m going to stick with my original plan and call my day where I am in the prompts/goals & spill over into May.
I’m still adjusting to this new schedule — having just adjusted to the old-new schedule. I have no outside help (by this I mostly mean food service which it turns out I was more dependent upon than I realized) & grocery service is patchy here, a problem exacerbated by people panic buying gluten-free items when the bread runs out & the stores not in a huge hurry to restock the specialty items.
Also, this all happened in spring & I rent a double-wide on its own lot. So, landscaping is my responsibility. Which is usually fine & enjoyable, but it’s one more thing on top of a thousand others while struggling with the basics.
Also, it’s full moon today so I have certain things I do by the moon cycle that are also eating at my time.
Anyway, I hope all is well wherever you are & I’ll go ahead & get rolling on this.
Day five read
Time for you and time for me,“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” T.S. Eliot
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
“Do I dare disturb the universe?” He asks.
This poem gets me in a way no others have — a rich & descriptive meander through the mind of an anxious person in society. I connected with both this poem & the Wasteland & it really inspired the way I read and wrote for several years. I became quite the T.S. Eliot fangirl — writing several essays on his works in college.
However, after I got past the work & into his life I found a person I hate possibly more than H.P. Lovecraft. Eliot was an abusive piece of shit that should have been yeeted into the sun for what he did to his wife (but a lot of his contemporaries were the same sort of garbage to be fair).
I’m glad that what people remember Eliot for is mostly Cats, the consistently WTF musical based on Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. My fondest wish that his legacy will be the #buttholecut. That’s why I’m pro #buttholecut, it’s mostly a burning hatred for T.S. Eliot thing. But also, I can appreciate when reality aligns slightly with the universe of animated TV shows.
Day five poetry
Today, I followed the prompt to the letter since it included an interesting point by point/line by line walk thru. Check out the whole prompt here.
Like a rock through a window, this is dead
crow dinner; silk over the face & a mouth full
of sugar, feel the wriggle against your gums
as a blue dawn crowns the Cascades. Alive
with the wind in your wings, uneaten
& unturned. Breezing through the ol’
Pornobalken, feathers tickle the nose. Plant
the seed & it will bloom, eventually — ain’t
workin’ on no time but god’s, the high king
of the cloud prick the sky & watch it bleed
feathers black as your belly, slip below
the mirror-river & peck the wristwatch
even Poseiden felt was so last season.
Lulu’s light finger pressed just below
the rib cage encourage the lungs to cough
up the bones of the second summer’s death,
this is sun scrying, this is the only way
of knowing a world gone oh mierda; hear
crows choke on cryptic curses, until a fair
enough breaks through. Bird body pressed
against a streaked windowpane, neck broken.