Spectacular Pyrotechnics
By Sarah Manguso
Go ahead! Plant that fire.
Hit me right in the heart.
Hit me right in my poem,
Right in the dirty idea,
Right in the ass.
Show me fire and don't say a word
For whole moments.
Let me see you from the hill
Where I stand with my watch on
With my shoes in the wet grass
With my keys in my hand.
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Another loony day. Took younger son to the orthodontist in the morning in the snow; ended up being there till nearly 11 because he needed several brackets moved around because he's lost so many teeth lately. Came home, tried to do what I thought would be a quick little daylight savings update to my T-Mobile phone, ended up having problems with Microsoft's system update that was necessary to make Windows Mobile sync with my desktop, took ages to discover that this is because Outlook has to be set as the default mail program for it to work. Arrgh. Won't even go into health annoyances of the day, it's all minor stupid stuff but lots of minor stupid stuff at once can really be draining.
Got part of my mother's birthday present ready. Picked up older son from the bus stop in the heaviest of the beautiful snow that fell all day, took younger son to violin, spent nearly the entire rest of the afternoon helping younger son with his Powerpoint presentation and model of the Chrysler Building that are due Friday. So I really have nothing else to report. Haven't watched this week's Rome yet, have no intention of watching this week's or any future BSG even though
This is his mate, who often appears with him, standing on the railing waiting while he eats and chirps to warn other birds away.
Here is the male again through the deck slats. The other two photos have major color correction because they were shot through glass; this one has no glass but is greatly magnified because this is as close as I can get before he notices me and flies off.
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