Where the Use of Cannon Is Impractical
By Lisa Olstein
Stranger, mislaid love, I will
sleepwalk all night not girlish
but zombie-like, zombie-lite
through the streets in search of
your arms. Let’s meet at dawn
in the park to practice an ancient art
while people roll by in the latest
space-age gear blank as mirrors
above the procedure in the stainless
steel theaters where paper-gowned
we take ourselves to take ourselves
apart. Tap-tap-spark. So little blazes.
Cover the roofs with precision hooves.
Push back the forest like a blanket.
A bird the right color is invisible,
only movement catches the eye.
My most illustrious Lord, I know
how to remove water from moats
and how to make an infinite number
of bridges. Here we are at the palace.
Here we are in the dark, dark woods.
I had a bunch of work to get done Tuesday morning, plus laundry, plus some kitchen chores, so I was very boring, though I did go to the park after lunch. In the afternoon I spent way too much time on social media, which only ever upsets and stresses me out unless I'm talking about purely entertaining things -- even posting about things I agonize over whether I should post about ends up costing me friends. Maddy was here briefly post-NYC with bagels, but she doesn't work tomorrow so she's staying with a friend tonight.
We had thunderstorms on Tuesday evening with less wind than on Monday but a lot of driving rain. We watched The Flash, which would have been better if its entire season had been six episodes shorter, and The 100, which scared the crap out of me (NOT MARCUS OR ABBY, YOU BASTARDS, THREATEN TO KILL SOMEONE ELSE). Now my cats are sleeping off their storm stress and I have to go to bed because I have a dentist appointment, woohoo! From Lake Whetstone last weekend, some of the geese and turtles we saw: