Sunday, September 4, 2011
The Frog Prince
This is how it was that year, after four thousand
winters by the pond. My brothers falling
from the Egyptian sky. Bearing the blame
of skin disfigurations for a century. Knees added
to witches’ broths with incantations. The jelly
of our blood thickening lakewater. I witness my misery
reflected in the mirrored eyes of a fly.
If you could have seen
my skin flashing celery-green in the
underwater of mornings, expertly
picking through the most delicate of mosquitoes
and minnows for my table.
Four thousand and one winters. Surely
now you understand my coldness.
I’ve burrowed through the tangles
of your hair for the last time, dug
into that small frog-space, waited
to feel a breath of kindness from you.
Waited for you to take me under your
sheets, or warm me with your mouth.
When you wake you’ll find I’ve
left like a thief, taking your precious
golden ball, your silk gloves, the claw-foot
Saturday, September 3, 2011
I worked at the Graduate College, I went to New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas (drove through the Mojave Desert from LA to Vegas),presented research at the American Sociological Association's annual meeting, I got an acceptance from ASA's Contexts magazine, I read approximately 10 books of fiction, I finished the antique buffet that had been sitting in the garage. I did *not* brush up on my Spanish (although I did take the baby step of putting one CD on my iPod, then promptly skipped the lessons whenever they popped up), nor did I make vanilla.
The Spanish will just have to wait. I need a class or something, most likely. Or I should start watching telenovellas obsessively. The vanilla I am starting on TODAY! I have the vodka, I'm going down to the new health food place to find vanilla beans. So hopefully I'll have several cute bottles of vanilla in time for Christmas.
I had hoped to get much more done, but I'm fairly happy.