By Katie Ford
Despair is still servant
to the violet and wild ongoings
of bone. You, remember, are
that which must be made
servant only to salt, only
to the watery acre that is the body
of the beloved, only to the child
leaning forward into
the exhibit of birches
the forest has made of bronze light
and snow. Even as the day kneels
forward, the oceans and strung garnets, too,
kneel, they are all kneeling,
the city, the goat, the lime tree
and mother, the fearful doctor,
kneeling. Don't say it's the beautiful
I praise. I praise the human,
gutted and rising.
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This will be a quickie because our cable is out at home following a huge storm at dinnertime so I am connecting over my phone's 3G. I was awoken early by pacing cats and spent the morning working on a review of Deep Space Nine's "Playing God" -- plus I wanted to record Eating Raoul while it was free on cable since our DVD copy from my VHS tape is terrible, and that movie never fails to crack me up. We were a bit stir-crazy in the 95-degree heat and went to the mall for lunch -- Adam and I split egg and Nutella crepes, Daniel got a sandwich, afterward I went to the grand opening of the Vera Bradley store which is very pretty but had no great bargains while the kids went to the Apple store, same problem.
Adam's friend came over when we got back and the three kids played video games for a while, then we went to my parents' house for dinner just as the storms rolled in. When we got home, we watched The Ides of March, which I enjoyed more than I expected -- I'd been warned that the women's roles would not impress me and that was true, but I thought Gosling, Giamatti, and Hoffman were all terrific and Clooney was quite convincingly detestable. Now we can't properly follow the Orioles' defeat of the Nationals nor the fallout from the Sandusky verdict since we have no cable. Here are some more photos from the Star-Spangled Sailabration last weekend in Baltimore:
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