Unsad Wet Afternoon Chunk

In the world of commercials few beat the consistency of the Sonic Guys. On Saturdays wading through the tedium of the local car lot commercials and the Wackovia financial commercials, it is nice to have respite in the oddball humor of this duo. Here is my current fav (up there with the Weak Tot Action).

Three Books of Poetry You Will Need to Own

Matthea Harvey‘s newest book of poetry: Modern Life is available for purchase. Her first book continues to be the 2nd greatest title to a book of poetry ever: Pity the Bathtub Its Forced Embrace of the Human Form.

A new translation of Pablo Neruda’s “Cien Sonetos de Amor” by Gustavo Escobedo should be out by the new year. This to replace the dreadfully translated version by Stephen Tapscott.

Thomas Lux will have a new book titled God Particle which should be out March 18th. I count his lines about a flame in “Grain Burning Far Away” from his “The Street of Clocks” to be among the very best: “never waver, waver, never waver.”

Meditative Labor

Sweeping, raking, mopping, washing dishes these things I do not mind. They involve simple repetitive actions that free the mind to reflection. Today Archer, Jaiken and I gathered the yard’s straw; I raked piles, they gathered the needles into their wagon, and pushed and pulled it to the street. Upon dumping it they piled themselves into the wagon and dumped themselves into the pile.

I tend to remember raking experiences for a long time. I can remember epic rakings for neighbors at age eight, enormous piles, hours spent raking, minutes spent destroying the hours of raking, followed by rerakings with that satisfied autumn glow. This is unusual because while raking I did not consider once what I was doing, but was rather lost in my own thoughts, yet, I have no recollection of any thoughts or ideas I had while raking. I can’t even remember today what captivated me, what thought paths I traveled for the hour or so of work.

I’ve long denied the difference between physical labor and “nonphysical” labor, as all labor, even computation astropoetical defigurations, is physical, but there is a difference between mental or social labor and manual labor. Manual labor scuffs your hands. So today I’m blistered and regardless of how much is actually accomplished a day where blisters are made and blisters are rubbed off is a good day.

Wachet Auf

Fire it up
Etceteranough