By Wendy Xu
I commune with the text by way of railing against the text
The molecular processes of you are never finished
I move through air in the early fall, a cooling spittle, high heat days are gone
When the troops leave the replica city, you see that its battlements are written in green
A Western style of defense, no birds, all men
Same plaza, white stones, black columns, no memory
You want to walk along the path meant for military vehicles and are denied
You want to try falling down where others had before you, and are unceremoniously denied
You wanted permission to travel to the mainland to see your mother
All of your desires were completely impractical
That is, you did not want to atone for anything you had done
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I am SO FUCKING DONE with 2016. And I haven't even turned 50 yet -- not that I will be doing anything exciting for that birthday even if I wanted distraction because we are going to have to watch our money. Today Paul's company, which announced last week that they were going to close a bunch of regional offices and lay off thousands of people but he thought he was safe because they just moved their office a couple of weeks ago, decided to close the office in this state. He is going to be out of work likely by the end of the year.
Otherwise, you know, apart from the country shearing itself apart and my in-laws having major health problems and performing artists whose work I enjoy continuing to die and various other fuckwittery, it was a nice day, beautiful weather, we had dinner with my parents, Maddy had to work, I posted a review of Voyager's "Mortal Coil" (still is not great), we watched Penn beat Harvard so they have a shot at the Ivy League title, we watched some Dirk Gently but I couldn't concentrate. Here's fall on rainy and sunny days near my house:
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