Sunday, May 18, 2014

Poem for Sunday and Lake Whetstone Wildlife

Court Gestures [excerpt]
By Kristi Maxwell

Every revolver is tied to a lover
of something. A chirp chips in
to the morning tableau.
A sac would be nifty about right now
with so much around us
collecting. To be collected
to be calm and—as the description goes.
I queer the request and ask
for a recitation of a poem that ends
on wag. Satisfy me. Salsify, waxy beans,
fungus, oats, but no eel please. No pleasing
eel. My appetite is ruint by the twang
that relocates me, carrying my taste space
home. For once, we rooted for the champs.
We jailed our gaze and allowed visitation
from the object deemed most
textured thus most fun
for extended scoping—the eye coping
a feel. The eye coping with all
forbidden it, finding comfort in the vole
in its burrowed state. A door belies
an entry. Who is it you would have had
barge in? Having been had, having
to demean the brag,
someone hangs meat over the swelling.
A raw curtain drawn. Rue the chaps
who failed to mend. A load of face
is carted, and a query turns it.
A smirk emerges like a shark fin. Circles
the general mood. Pull a voice from the kit
and swab my ear. I need to hear
that now, whatever it is.
As is often the case, a word's gone missing.


"A process note: words and line counts for these poems were generated through the card game Royalty, in which players build and capture words until all the cards are exhausted," writes Maxwell. "I recorded the results of games and used each of the words generated in each game in a poem; the poem consists of the same number of lines as the number of words generated in each game." Her words here were "CHIP – CHIRP / WAXY / KIT / MEND – DEMEAN / WAG – TWANG / SAC – CHAPS – CHAMPS / FUN – FUNGUS / VOICE / TURN – RUINT / DOOR – ROOTED / OAT / BRAG – BARGE / RUE – QUEER – REQUEST / EEL – BELIE / JAIL / VOLE – LOVER / LOAD / FIN- NIFTY / GAZE."

While we slept, Adam went from the prom to the official after-party at a bowling alley (which apparently had lots of desserts and dancing as well as bowling), then to an after-after-party at the home of a friend, who hosted everyone who'd been on his party bus and showed Disney movies until her parents got up to make breakfast. Adam called us around 11 a.m. for a ride home, at which point we expected him to collapse, but he wanted to return his tux while he was still functioning. So we did that, then, since we were already in Gaithersburg, we went back to Lake Whetstone to see the goslings in sunlight, plus herons, turtles, a snake, and more!

Adam was fried by the time we got halfway around the lake, so we turned around and took him home. While he slept, we went looking for bunnies, got groceries, and did various chores. He woke up just in time for the Preakness, which I hadn't really intended to watch but everyone else was; I am torn between being excited for the people who care if there's a Triple Crown winner and worrying about how the horses are treated. The Orioles and Nationals both lost, though we didn't watch much of either game; we did watch P!nk on Behind the Music and now we're watching Barry Manilow on Graham Norton (eesh, people should NOT do that to their faces to hide their aging).

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