rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Reset Thirty-Two, Day Thirty-Nine

Saturday the fires spread a bit more slowly, so I guess that qualifies as a good day for California. Bad news is that the weather forecast has been changed again, and now it predicts that we will have four consecutive days with triple digit highs, starting Monday. Definitely not what I wanted, or anybody else around here I'm sure. The low humidity is also desiccating everything, including my nose. At times it's like breathing sand.

What I was all day was tired. And bone-headed. My fingers kept making mistakes, and still are. I think I might be getting dementia unevenly, with my fingers now surging ahead of everything else, and my brain a close second. With luck, my feet will delay their decline and I won't end up crashing into walls and furniture with greater frequency than I already do. At least not for a while yet. Eventually it will all go wrong, of course. For now it's enough that I stabbed myself in the lip with my fork twice at dinner. I should probably stick to finger foods, which tend only to fall harmlessly on my lap.




Sunday Verse



Another Westminster Bridge


by Alice Oswald


go and glimpse the lovely inattentive water
discarding the gaze of many a bored street walker

where the weather trespasses into strip-lit offices
through tiny windows into tiny thoughts and authorities

and the soft beseeching tapping of typewriters

take hold of a breath-width instant, stare
at water which is already elsewhere
in a scrapwork of flashes and glittery flutters
and regular waves of apparently motionless motion

under the teetering structures of administration

where a million shut-away eyes glance once
restlessly at the river’s ruts and glints

count five, then wander swiftly
away over the stone wing-bone of the city.
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