Anthony
By Jane Shore
Your absent name at rollcall was more present
than you ever were, forever
on parole in the back of the class.
The first morning you were gone,
we practiced penmanship to keep our minds
off you. My fist
uncoiled chains of connecting circles,
oscilloscopic hills;
my carved-up desk, rippled as a washboard.
A train cut you in half in the Jersey marshes.
You played there after school.
I thought of you and felt afraid.
One awkward a multiplied into a fence
running across the page.
I copied out two rows of b's.
The caboose of the last d ran smack against
the margin. Nobody even liked you!
My e's and f's travelled over the snowy landscape
on parallel tracks — the blue guidelines
that kept our letters even.
The magician sawed his wife in half.
He passed his hand through the gulf of air
where her waist should be.
Divided into two boxes, she turned and smiled
and all her ten toes flexed.
I skipped a line.
I dotted the disconnected body of each i.
At the bottom of the page,
I wrote your name. Erased it.
Wrote it, and erased again.
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It has been a nice, satisfying Friday, and though things were a bit rushed in the afternoon and early evening, everything that had to get done did, so all in all I must rate it a good day. Had lunch with
Speaking of Harry Potter, I did not watch any of the clips on
Currently older son has plans to sleep over his best friend's house Saturday night so the friend's mother can drive them to Best Buy at 6 a.m. and they can get in line to get a Wii with Bar Mitzvah money (he literally received two gifts that were not cash and both of those were Judaica art collectibles, so we figure he's entitled to buy himself something). I can't figure out whether this excursion plan is overly optimistic or completely unnecessary, but since the mom has agreed to supervise the entire thing, I figure it's not my problem! Younger son was offered the chance to go to a 9 p.m. showing of Happy Feet on opening night with his best friend, but we nixed it because of the hour...we already have the tickets for Saturday, anyway.
1. What is your nearest lake or river? The Potomac River.
2. Do you believe in heaven? I don't believe that death is the end of life. Beyond that I don't have a clue what "heaven" is, except that it's not any of the things I've heard it described or characterized to be.
3. What's your lucky number? 11, the date of my birth.
4. Ever know anyone who appeared on a game show? I know someone who won a great deal of money on one.
5. Charades: good times or lame? Been years since I played, so I associate it with good times, but I could see it getting tiresome pretty quickly.
1. How much time do you spend on the Internet daily? My computer is generally online for about 14 hours a day. Of that, I spend perhaps three hours actively doing things that involve the internet, though I suppose I could do things like answer e-mail offline.
2. What are your favorite 3 websites? The ones I visit the most often are imdb.com, dictionary.com and google.com. The ones I visit for pleasure most often are probably aeclectic.net, sacred-texts.com and poets.org.
3. Do you eat at your computer? *puts down glass to type answer* Frequently.
4. Pick one and why - Reading the news online or in a newspaper? Online. Much easier to skim headlines and download what I want to read in detail later.
5. How many people are on your instant messenger buddy list? 52 on Yahoo, 117 on AIM, 15 on Google Talk, a preposterous number on Jabber now that my LJ friends list shows up there. Of those, I speak to perhaps four more than once a week.
If aerobics help prevent brain shrinkage, can someone please explain the appeal of Richard Simmons to me? Have just spent an hour looking at proofs of my son's Bar Mitzvah album. I had comments on nearly every page and suspect the photographer (chosen and hired by my mother before I was consulted) is going to gripe about all the changes I requested but tough. I know what I like when it comes to photo layouts.
From the tower of Udvar-Hazy the night of the Halloween Air & Scare event, a view of a plane landing at nearby Dulles Airport.
In the main hangar, a Republic P-470 Thunderbolt. The silver plane in back is the Enola Gay, center of a big controversy at the Smithsonian about what manner of documentation should accompany the B-29 Superfortress that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.
Down the educational corridor, you could drive your own Mars rover! (Because it was Halloween, there were Martians as well.)
A fully automated R2-D2 built by a local robotics group, the Washington, DC R2-D2 Builders Club.
I liked both Doctor Who and BSG better than last week's, though I am very frustrated we have been left with a cliffhanger on the former before the Thanksgiving hiatus -- oh cruel! The latter part of "The Impossible Planet" reminded me of Stargate: Atlantis for reasons I can't quite explain beyond the archaeology...the Doctor needs Rodney to help figure things out, obviously, and John to work the alien technology, heh.
Big hugs to
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