I do better when I start writing these things earlier
in the day, that’s for sure. Right now I only know
that I’ve been painting, and my fingers are blue
and white. My neck is stiff, and the heater
just went out. Again. I flip the thermostat back
and forth about 10 times before it catches and
I hear the thwomp! of the heat coming back on
(I accidentally wrote “I heart the thwomp!” and
it’s true, I do. California shouldn’t be this cold).
Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer and sunnier.
So they say. Alright it’s coming back to me now
we didn’t have any work today, so just sat around
wondering what we could afford to do, and then
I remembered: I had to pick up prescriptions
Had to get a 4mm Allen wrench, and look for a deal
on pinot noir at Grocery Outlet. I hate looking
at the backyard now, because the landlord’s minions
poisoned the weeds. Everything’s supposed to be green
this time of year but it’s brown. Why oh why oh why.
Reading Heriberto Yepez or Facebook doesn’t help.
Seeing a photograph of Rainbow Lorikeets did help.
Somewhere there is tiny beetle that carries on its back
an exquisite glass plate, on which appears the image
of a golden tortoise. That’s the world we live in.
I did not see a Rainbow Lorikeet or a Golden Tortoise
Beetle today in Marina. I did see the turkey
vultures roosting in the eucalyptus trees, across
the street from Walgreens. They looked like black,
sentient carcasses, slouching behind the leaves.
Random lines from my bookshelf:
6.3 It may indeed be impossible to escape traditions embedded
over many centuries and many civilizations, falling into
the mistake of reenactment of one entrenched belief or
another. The immediate answer is rebellion.
—Karen Tei Yamashita, I-Hotel