Fugue for Eye and Vanishing Point
By Suji Kwock Kim
Give me the clarity, the sharpness
of a season when things are plainly
themselves. No smear of dreaming on the dirt.
Let my eye see without seeking more
than what's there, and find what is
is sweet. Bleach-fumes. Urine. Cement.
Bus-exhaust. Oil glittering on pistons.
Soiled needles wrapped in butcher paper.
Infinite engine trapped in skin.
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All my holiday cards and packages are now in the mail! (Which means,
We needed the gas because tonight was older son's winter chorus concert at school, to which we drove my parents while my in-laws came down from Pennsylvania to meet us. The concert was lovely...they sang a Spanish carol, "A La Nanita Nana," an a cappella arrangement of "Jubilate Deo," a version of "Shalom Chaverim" with African drum and finger cymbals, a giddy "Let It Snow" with paper snowflakes tossed all over the stage, a magnificent set of nursery rhyme carols sung as a round by the all-girl group, a barbershop quartet (actually octet) "Jingle Bells" and some contemporary pieces like "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia. They always have a bake sale to raise money for sound equipment at concerts, so we had good desserts, too.
They marched in singing the first song from the back.
I really love the decoration on the back of the chorus teacher's sweater.
Hubby got me Graceland: An Interactive Pop-Up Tour for the fifth night of Chanukah. Greatest souvenir ever! And all I got him was glow-in-the-dark massage lotion...
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