The Big Dipper

 

Rye

 

Lexiphanic

 Lexiphanic (lek-si-FAN-ik)  Using pretentious words and language. After Lexiphanes, a bombastic speaker, in the satire of the same name by Lucian (2nd century CE). From Greek lexis (speech, diction, word) + phainein (to show).

The chase

 

Yakitori, Shinjuku 新宿

 

aaahhhh...

 

Ralph Morse (October 23, 1917 – December 7, 2014), Sunset Diner, New Jersey, 1947.

 

Peter Keetman. Oktoberfest München. München 1957

 

Gutmann, John (1905-1998) - 1960 The Confessional, Mexico

 

1928 Samuel Novarro Mayan Revival Home by Frank Lloyd Wright, Los Angeles, California.

 

Elves

 

The Crying of Water by Arthur Symons

 

O water, voice of my heart, crying in the sand, All night long crying with a mournful cry, As I lie and listen, and cannot understand The voice of my heart in my side or the voice of the sea, O water, crying for rest, is it I, is it I? All night long the water is crying to me. Unresting water, there shall never be rest Till the last moon droop and the last tide fail, And the fire of the end begin to burn in the west; And the heart shall be weary and wonder and cry like the sea, All life long crying without avail, As the water all night long is crying to me.

Its all about style

 

Perfect

 

Variation on the word Sleep by Margaret Atwood

which may not happen.

I would like to watch you,

sleeping. I would like to sleep

with you, to enter

your sleep as its smooth dark wave

slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent

wavering forest of bluegreen leaves

with its watery sun & three moons

towards the cave where you must descend,

towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver

branch, the small white flower, the one

word that will protect you

from the grief at the center

of your dream, from the grief

at the center. I would like to follow

you up the long stairway

again & become

the boat that would row you back

carefully, a flame

in two cupped hands

to where your body lies

beside me, and you enter

it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air

that inhabits you for a moment

only. I would like to be that unnoticed

& that necessary.

                                         

Good Bones by Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.

Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine

in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,

a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways

I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least

fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative

estimate, though I keep this from my children.

For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.

For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,

sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world

is at least half terrible, and for every kind

stranger, there is one who would break you,

though I keep this from my children. I am trying

to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,

walking you through a real shithole, chirps on

about good bones: This place could be beautiful,

right? You could make this place beautiful.