Kansas elected a Native American lesbian. A grand slam.
At irregular intervals there comes the knock of a guava falling onto the deck. So many, so underappreciated. Meanwhile on the other side of the house another apple falls, dislodged by a pair of squirrels. I rescue what I can of the bruised, tooth-gashed fruit.
Saturday is annual pie day. How many years in a row now have we made pies from this tree? Twenty-six? Lily, as the saying goes, has a bun in the oven. Happy news.
The proof. Or is it proofs, is/are at Jim’s. He’ll check the various arcane codes and then Priority Mail it over.
Disclaimer: I worry a little about the nuns in my sisters’ community reading it. It has passages that one of my sisters called…what was the word, not obscene….crude. Yes crude.
I confess to such. If you’d like me to tell you which chapters, contact me and I will steer you clear. Or toward.
the terror machines pulverizing the silence. Blue Angels. Tell me about it.
This is to let you know that the mirabulous Mirabel Writers Group, as part of Litquake,is presenting an hour of readings starting at 5 pm on Saturday, Oct. 20 at the Green Arcade bookstore.. Our contributions are loooooooooooosely woven around the poem, The Annotated Hammock, by Marianne Jubilado.
Monday when I went to the Garden of the Headless Buddha, behold, there was the Sublime One’s head at the base of the rock whereupon the body sat.
Tuesday I brought Gorilla glue and applied it, first to the rubber lozenge seen in previous post which I in a fit of brilliance had decided to use as a kind of Issey Miyake collar, and once the collar was secure, to the head itself.
The declension of the head was such that the head slid off. I found it lying on the patio, blessedly intact. I wedged a stick against The Celestial Forehead which worked for about five minutes after which time I dislodged it and behold, there was the Radiant One’s head falling onto the bricks of the patio.
This scenario was repeated twice more.
I thought at first, what an interesting rock, before I discovered it was a statue of the Buddha, minus his head.
There was a rock with a Himalayan slant to it nearby that had a ledge just wide enough for a sitting. There I gave the Compassionate One a perch. Coincident with His Holy Exhumation I also unearthed a rubber disk, original purpose indeterminate. Its purpose in the here and now became a chapeau to keep the sun off the exposed neck. In certain perspectives it gives His Sereneness a meditative aspect.
I think if I ever get enlightened that it how it must happen, minus my head.
I got the hose and hosed down the Enlightened One and the makeshift hat. It appears to be waterproof as well, I’m happy to announce.