I really wanted to express warm grattude
to the new web acquaintances I've made on here
during this trying time. Practically overnight
I got a buncha new followers as a new user, or
at least it seems like a buncha to me; then,
rather suddenly, it seems like everybody at
once stopped reading my stuff. Given the current situation,
I sincerely hope that this doesn't mean you have...
no, it's too terrible to think of, much less say.
Nevertheless, my gratitude for your recognition,
however momentary, is heartfelt and continues,
and I want you to know that I will continue to
value our association for as long as this period of
social disconnectedness lasts, after which
I will re-evaluate rationally based on a cost-benefit model.
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 7:06 PM UTC
after several consecutive insomniac nights
I was rummaging you tube when I came upon a site
inviting me to try something called asmr for sleep problems.
when I clicked there the screen went blank and a
woman with a husky voice said, “listen closely.”
that was in july, I think.
since then several interesting things have happened, or are in progress.
my cable has been replaced by dish.
my long-time therapist sent a message announcing his retirement.
However, I am attempting to evaluate whether, in fact,
he or an otherwise-named corporate entity are returning
to my bank account,
once a month, incrementally,
the consultation fees I paid him over the last 17.75 years,
in transactions tagged as “voluntary reparations (unofficial).”
Some things - Emily Dickinson, Finnegan’s Wake - are starting to make a lot more sense,
especially late at night,
but not in relation to any of the topics you would ever anticipate.
On the other hand, I can no longer unravel the plot line of
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
There are indications that I have become a hugely successful web presence,
but only in Japan;
I remain at a loss to decipher the resulting communications but
my new avatar may or may not translate as “Fool for Fugu.”
I find that feeding the squirrels in Prospect Park is very satisfying.
I devote more and more of my waking hours to this pursuit,
though they are becoming increasingly demanding and picky eaters,
rejecting nuts and random carbs while displaying an unusual
preference for radioactive isotopes of the lanthanide series.
Most important, mommy comes to tuck me in every night and help me
to sleep;
she is rather large, so only her right index finger can make it
through my bedroom window, but the way she
gently scratches the nape of my neck is very effective.
Her latest polish is tangerine crush coral.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 6:55 PM UTC
I know you're not supposed to be discouraging
so I'm putting this in a different place on the web
so's hopefully the person I'm snarking at won't see it
but I can't help it
this person (not a HePo)
said,
in verse,
"I think the world is trying to give us a hug"
o
gee
if so,
it's the way big Lennie
hugged the puppy
in that Steinbeck book
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 1:33 PM UTC
I just called my Doctor's office
to tell them I needed a prescription renewal.
After verifying my information,
they informed me that I am dead.
This presents me with an ontological dilemma:
who am I to dispute the Doctor's opinion?
I have been wrong about basic issues before.
And in the event they are correct,
do I really need to keep taking a 10mg statin
once a day?
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 7:11 PM UTC
Is there anything the Spirit of Dead Matter would not do
To keep His Crown? Would He hesitate to
**** his enemies, his doubters, those who resembled his most awful victims –
To black the Light and ash the Rivers and irradiate the Airs of those
Lands which gave succor to his last craven opponents –
To freeze in soundless Vacuum the last voices modeling any meaning –
To steal in the night the last pulsebeats or lightward twistings leaving
In their place only brazen clockwork,
Verdigrised,
Badly made,
Maloccluded snapping cogs and the last sensations the screech of unlubricated parts seizing in a deathlock
While over the last junkyard muzak tinntinnabs-----
Hell to the Cheats He Hath Choked our respiration,
Howl for the Cheez, He Shalt ***** youse hart n sole.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 12:26 PM UTC
The social graces necessary to
Hover weightless but apparently comfortable
Over a plurality of attitudes – or “sides” –
No one of which can be fully embraced
Without collateral damage, is what now defines
An acceptable communicator, friend or lover.
Not as we once told ourselves
A “capacity for ambiguity” orbiting like chimerical quanta
In the airy loops of your cortical apparatus,
But quite simply a very special brand
Of Tight-Assedness,
Seated directly on the dilemma’s sharp horns
With no outward sign of emotional distress
Or fakery.
Without this early-acquired skill you can’t avoid sinking
Into blatant relativism or – worse even –
Partisanship, with its unavoidable implications
That you might consider someone you meet,
With all the rights and privileges of a distinct human individual,
To be actually rather stupid.
Before they decided always to be
Perfectly honest with each other,
The inhabitants of Regulus V
Constituted a thriving, variegated community;
Now there’s a radioactive cinder.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 1:59 PM UTC
there's basically nothing in my "stream" all day -
which if I understand this platform, so far,
means the people i follow are not submitting.
What, have you have got something BETTER to do
on a Saturday?
I hope it's entirely virtual, if you get my drift.
I depend emotionally on the little band of
HePo people I run after like a puppy now;
Tumblr has gone snotty-weird,
Twitter always was,
and Facebook -- is like being snowbound
with relatives for the holidays.
so, somebody please gush lyrically about
something in the next 90 minutes,
cause my Domino's order ain't coming
until at least that late.
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 7:40 PM UTC
1. 1.Garo Yepremian, the field goal kicker,
when he tried to throw a pass (with a football)
and it flew backward out of his hand
and was run in for a touchdown by the opposing team
in the SuperBowl. I did that when I was 12.
2. Bill Buckner, the first baseman,
when he bent over to pick up the weak grounder
(a baseball) that would have let him make the final out
in the World Series in 1986, the first one his team
would have won since the Stone Age,
and instead let the ball roll between his feet
out into the outfield. I did that when I was 9.
3. Vinko Bogataj, a Yugoslav ski jumper
who fell and flew sideways off the ramp
in a tangle of skis arms and legs, and was exhibited for
years on TV as "the agony of defeat". I did that over and over
whenever I tried to move upright on ice or hard-packed snow.
I still do.
4. LeBron James, who, at the end of the last game when
Cleveland won the NBA Finals, blocked a shot by
flying about fifty feet through the air in one second
(apparently descending from the ceiling)
and flattening an easy layup perfectly against the backboard.
I did that last Tuesday night, in my dreams.
5. Lorenzo Bandini, a Formula One race car driver for Ferrari
who died in a fiery crash in the 1967 Monte Carlo Gran Prix,
which I saw on TV when I was fourteen the same day,
though there must have been some broadcast delay.
There was also a delay before two crew members
went to pull him from the smoldering wreckage,
and as the cameras watched, there was a small
secondary explosion, and they dropped him and ran.
I'm sorry if this sounds like sick humor, but
until then my ambition in life was to drive Formula One.
I've never learned to drive.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 10:46 PM UTC
In July 1945 my Mother was 23
And worked as a clerk in the wartime
Office of Price Administration
On the third floor of New York’s
Empire State Building.
A little after 10am,
A US Air Force bomber
Blundered in the fog into the
79th floor of the building,
Killing eleven. She and her friends,
Sitting (as per air raid drills)
In the central stairwell, thought that
Germany - which they forgot had surrendered -
Was bombing them. Finally they were sent home;
From streets choked with starers and responders,
She looked up and could only see smoke and fog.
She took the subway home.
In September 2001 I was almost 49
And worked on the top floor of a
downtown Manhattan building, in
a small New York City government office,
four blocks uptown from the north tower
of the old World Trade Center.
About a quarter after 9 sitting in my office
I heard a jet plane noise go over my head,
Followed by a loud explosion; it made me
Think of a sonic boom, as in breaking the sound barrier;
But people said a plane hit the Trade Center.
I thought of my mother. But we had no air raid drills.
I sat there another ten minutes or so, listening to the news,
When a much louder crash rocked the area and
Made our building actually shake – this even though
The second target (south tower) was somewhat farther away.
The radio announcer was very upset.
Anyway, I went out and started walking uptown
Past starers and responders – a long walk to find
A place to sit, up in Washington Square Park.
At some point on my stroll up Broadway,
Somewhere in Soho, I noticed that people around me
Were standing very still and looking in a frozen way
Back down toward the site of the Trade Center.
I turned around, for the first time, and looked,
But all I could see was smoke and dust
(and a helicopter hovering).
I realized later, based on time estimate,
That was when the north tower collapsed,
Killing thousands,
But you had to be watching to realize it.
I took the subway home.
Fortunately (if you look at it one way)
My mother, retired in Florida,
Died a few years before this
Coincidental phenomenon occurred.
My sister recently unearthed a short
Memoir my mother wrote covering up to
About my birth date, early 50’s.
If I compared general trauma periods,
I guess I could list more for me but only
Because I know me better.
Against quarantine, she could put
Nearly four years of World War II rationing,
Anxiety, long lines and boredom.
Against my father, she had her mother.
Against her being female, I was queer. And so on.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 3:43 PM UTC