rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Weak Week End

The moon being barely past full, the ground is all shadow-lace, except where deeper darkness pools in those places which were shady refuges from the hot morning sun. More cicadas whine each night. It is cooler now, and I can open the windows. It would be more pleasant if a bit of breeze would blow and rustle the leaves. August is so monotonous. I watch the moonlight creep across the dry lawn and the dim pavement, and wonder where the deer have gone. The roses in the front yard wilt and fall, uneaten. I haven't even heard a raccoon for weeks. The odor of skunk which was frequent for a while hasn't disturbed the air for days. I can't even remember how long it's been since I've heard an owl. If the feral cats didn't visit every night, I'd think all the creatures of the night had gone extinct. Perhaps they are as bored as I am, and are off brooding in the forest. First the fires, and now this dullness. It's a strange summer. I think I'll be glad to see it gone.


Sunday Verse

I Imagine the Gods


by Jack Gilbert


I imagine the gods saying, We will
make it up to you. We will give you
three wishes, they say. Let me see
the squirrels again, I tell them.
Let me eat some of the great hog
stuffed and roasted on its giant spit
and put out, steaming, into the winter
of my neighborhood when I was usually
too broke to afford even the hundred grams
I ate so happily walking up the cobbles,
past the Street of the Moon
and the Street of the Birdcage-Makers,
the Street of Silence and the Street
of the Little Pissing. We can give you
wisdom, they say in their rich voices.
Let me go at last to Hugette, I say,
the Algerian student with her huge eyes
who timidly invited me to her room
when I was too young and bewildered
that first year in Paris.
Let me at least fail at my life.
Think, they say patiently, we could
make you famous again. Let me fall
in love one last time, I beg them.
Teach me mortality, frighten me
into the present. Help me to find
the heft of these days. That the nights
will be full enough and my heart feral.
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