By Alicia Ostriker
My neighbor’s daughter has created a city
you cannot see
on an island to which you cannot swim
ruled by a noble princess and her athletic consort
all the buildings are glass so that lies are impossible
beneath the city they have buried certain words
which can never be spoken again
chiefly the word divorce which is eaten by maggots
when it rains you hear chimes
rabbits race through its suburbs
the name of the city is one you can almost pronounce
The author told Poem-a-Day on Poets.org, "I think the utopian impulse is generated partly by distress at the world as it is, and partly by something childish (in my case girlish) or even infantile in us, some memory of a time when everything was okay."
I spent a really nice, relaxing Monday with Cheryl eating Lebanese Taverna hummus, grape leaves, lebneh, and fatayers and watching Chaplin, the 2015 live action Cinderella, and a couple of episodes of Robin of Sherwood, broken up by a walk around the neighborhood to see the azaleas, chipmunks, and one rabbit who paused mid-hop to look at us. Chaplin made me nostalgic for L.A., especially the scenes on the beach in Malibu right by Point Dume.
I can't believe I was there just a few weeks ago. Paul and I had a late dinner, watched Blindspot, played with our cats, and talked to our niece who's thinking of moving to the east coast. Tomorrow is Maryland's primary, so hopefully by evening our phone will stop ringing with people begging, pleading and demanding our votes. Here are a few more photos from the Light City exhibit all around Baltimore's Inner Harbor a couple of weeks ago: