Fall's Fortunate Foretelling

I sit here staring at a sun flower that grins a rich yellow from above my laptop screen, perched as it is in a narrow necked, fat bottomed bottle atop my desk. It's been a week or more since as kind a friend as I know in Boston bought it for a me still sick and behind and despairing. Its only curling a bit about the petals, but otherwise looking chipper and cheerful as any displaced plant ought in early October. And I admit, I find myself relating.

I would welcome a little escape, I admit. Just a little one. I read about these tear-drop trailers and thought of the desert in the Fall and longed to climb rocks, hike about, eat hearty, hot foods in the twilight. Just be present in the stuff of stuff. Be far from books and bars and burdens.

mewithoutYou has been helping me remember the meaning of the stuff of Stuff. Sleeping At Last too.

"a fumbling reply, an awkward rigid laugh
I'm carried helpless by my floating basket raft
your flavor in my mind swings back and forth between
sweeter than any wine and as bitter as mustard greens
light and dark as honeydew and pumpernickel bread
the trap I set for you seems to have caught my leg instead"

(Side note: my external hard drive with all my music: clicking. I think its gonna fail. Fuck.)

"We'll lift up the ground to see
The system of roots beneath.
Gears turn, endlessly,
To bring the world back to life
Like clockwork, when it dies.

The cadence of beating hearts,
The click of its moving parts
Grows louder and louder
From this restless earth...

Future gardens wait patiently below
somehow we smell them
blossom through the snow."

The nesting instinct is a fine thing and well enough. I don't think it a pure vanity to desire one's life is full of beauty, natural or creative. But its to be shared. This place would be a fine setting for a life-together-ed. Otherwise its all just a museum to lifeless artifice. Artifactualities.

Well, tomorrow is just the sort of day from which I need to retreat. Too full, too busy, too much. I'll face it all the better with a full night's sleep and further blogging serves that purpose not at all.

A little more Sleeping At Last before I'm sleeping, at last.

"We'll pray for heaven's floor to break
Pour the brightest white on blackest space
Come bleeding gloriously through
the clouds

and the blue

Forcing one place from two.
Killing formulaic views.

Only loves proves to be the Truth."