Wednesday, August 12, 2020

Poem for Wednesday and Brookside Gardens

The Good Light
By Aaron Fagan

There were always such beautiful shadows in your work,
Though many now dodge their taxes with your art. Rarely
As it seems, life involves death with every decision, which is
Why I miss the non-Euclidean idiom we used to argue over
Everything in the dictionary of what not to do. Somewhere
In a mix between Beaches and Häxan I have these weird
Memories of you sleeping when there’s no way I was there
To see you sleeping—a crystal ball above your bed lets
Tensors, in a tension of tenses, tongue-tie time and divine
Your urge to fearlessly abandon yourself to love as you
Understand love, where paradox gives way to paradox
And awareness is congratulated with awareness of how
This multiverse, in vast tribulation, ushers us on in unison
As one of many big bangs begins again to light the way.

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Tuesday morning was quiet around here, then Biden announced Harris as his running mate and I was in a good mood for the rest of the day even though Adam sent various memes mocking her and Biden (he has not revised his teenage belief that all politicians should be mashed into patties and served to the populace). I think Daniel was more concerned about the cancellation of college football seasons -- his girlfriend is a big WSU fan.

We took a walk in the early evening when the temperature dropped and saw several bunnies, then we had leftover Thai basil chick'n with peanut noodles and watched the season finale of Stargirl, which was great -- that whole show has been a bright spot during quaratine TV -- and the craziness of the Orioles game where they kept going ahead, then letting the Phillies catch up until they finally won in extra innings. From Brookside last week:

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