This Week, Feeling Inspired by...

The incredible pieces (“necklace” just doesn’t cut it here...these are more like gilded bibs or breastplates) fashioned by the sisters behind DylanLex. They dismantle and reattach the oddest, most stunning combinations of silver and rhinestone jewelry. I can’t stop looking at these. Much to be learned here, methinks (and not just about jewelry):

Wow. Much more at the DylanLex blog.

This song, "I Need My Girl," by The National! I’ve been listening to their new album, Trouble Will Find Me, and writing to it this week. Looking forward to catching their show in Columbus in a couple of weeks...

        

This hall of mirrors on Wikipedia: a list of lists of lists. For example, Lists of Bulgarian Military Aircrafts, Lists of Swedish Swimming Championship Champions, or Lists of Unsolved Problems.

And you?

If a Painting Stops You

If a Painting Stops You

Let it grab your shoulders,
fasten its lasso

around your neck, pull you
in by handfuls.

Consider what it wants
to show you,

now that you are alone
together,

what land or bodies, what
light. What eyes

has the painting swapped
for yours,

in what direction is your
head swiveled.

See it, see through it to
the invented

place, this realm, real,
complete,

continuing in all directions
around the bit

you take in. Imagine what
you must

look like over there to them,
from within

the edges, peering into a room
like a mirror.

Perfectly Natural

Perfectly Natural

You are falling into your life
and you don’t even notice it
except when it feels terrifying,

tunneling down, most things
rising around you, the walls
of an elevator shaft. What

will you forget next, without
even knowing it, a name,
a place, an accidental taste

of hairspray vapor, dish soap
lingering on a licked finger,
grit from a pencil’s pink eraser

run along a tooth. Think of all
the plants growing around your
home, and within your city,

and in this country, and in
every forest and jungle, plant
to do lists completed each day,

no need for us. Our remnants
wander from our hands, receipts
left behind in plastic grocery bags,

last year’s airplane ticket stubs
zipped into the suitcase. Everything
cannot be remembered, don’t you

know this, aren’t you used to it.
Forgetting is supposed to happen,
it can be beautiful, the release.

Not Smoke

Not Smoke

Dingy clouds lifting
from the green fields,

right away, I look for
fire, not for the truck

kicking up dust,
leaving this place.

What should I expect
from the land, watching

the fields, the ponds
like rained-in giant’s

footprints, the trees
playing statue.

Even if you have
a staring contest

with the moon, you
won’t see it moving,

won’t see morning coming.
Gazing at the picturesque

will always hurt you
if you’re doing it right.

This Is How Birthdays Work

This Is How Birthdays Work

When you started
as a human in the air,
ah, here you are!
Appearance triggers
time. Not age that
we celebrate (hey,
you’re still here!),
but the birth day.
There was no you,
and then, you, new
person, squirming
pouch of genes,
and our wonder,
how did we ever
get along without
you. The birth day,
the moment you
tumbled into this
crowd, iridescent
membrane covering
plastic wand’s ring,
given a little breath,
suddenly a bubble
moving through the
bee-ridden garden.
Become of this time
that we share, maybe
you will like it here.
Every second, what
will become a birth
day years from now,
all the birthdays-to-be,
all the humans whose
parents haven’t even
arrived yet.