Friday, November 15, 2019

Poem for Friday and Hamilton at Winterthur

the city is dying to be stylish
By D.A. Powell

the city is dying to be stylish. if only it meant more ugly
   shoes: a return to eye contact
"girl be sensible" we want to say to fashion victims [who
   become fashion vampires: no reflection]
they need to seem wan and bloodless. trousers purchased sizes
   larger lend a pose of emaciation

in the windows of chichi stores dummies appear to be shrinking
   their waistlines: arriviste dummies
who's doing all this hair? this lack of hair? at the salon we
   flip through oncology today

some looks we look forward to looking back on. remember
   ocean pacific. remember angels' flights

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I had a bunch of things to do in the house that I thought weren't going to take very long and I'd get them done in the morning and go out, but a thing I was fixing in son's room had a piece of broken plastic that required improvisation a the thing I was drilling in the kitchen was in a position where I had to use my left hand while standing on a chair, and the things in my closet that I was shifting now that winter is trying to arrive had to be sorted so I could get rid of the ones I haven't worn in forever.

So I didn't actually get out of the house until Paul got home early following a dentist appointment. By then I had gotten into the mood to watch Avengers: Endgame -- I've only seen it straight through twice -- so I insisted on turning off the Steelers game to watch most of my favorite superheroes mostly do things of which I approve. Here are some photos from Winterthur's Hamilton and Burr: Who Wrote Their Stories?, about how their families and other Founding Fathers did just that.

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2019-10-26 15.06.57

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