blame the cat

poem from 1985 notebook

Quit staring at the apple
as though it would jump, screaming
from the fruitbowl, bound
across the table and attack your unprotected throat.

894 out of 899

John McCain was ranked 894th out of 899 in his class at the Naval Academy.

Hahaha! Isn't that hilarious! Presidential material, all right!

tip of the hat to Americablog.

comments on "cake the walk" version 6

When last we left our intrepid poem it had no title. Now it does. Like it?

Other than that, if you don’t want to bother reading the darn thing through one more time, is the placement of the chings. They’ve moved down a few lines so that the hand is more directly patting them out.

I think that's it.

“cake the walk”, version 6

Cake


in hedges gusts rat
from lonesome scatter leaves
scurry to clump under that

just beyond the diamond
a stone bench waits for the cloud

which straggles from the splintery bleachers
trails along fences
touches bases

at the far end of the outfield swarms
the sponsors’
painted boards and tumbles over
into bushes

forgive the cold
its hold

who wouldn’t want
my hand

there’s cloud enough left in the oaks
to drop a drop on my sleeve
two, you say, for you

I appreciate this dark
on that shoulder

all the way up
link by link by link
to the backstop’s eave

the ringing I pat out
ching ching
ching
of the hand you warmed for me

in the crowded pocket
of the jacket you put on
not wanting to

prospective titles for "cake the walk"

Not Wanting To
Not Wanting
For the Cloud
Cake
Beyond the Diamond
Cloud Enough
Who Wouldn’t Want
Forgive the Cold
Ching
I Appreciate That Dark
Appreciate That Dark
Under This
All the Way Up
A Stone Bench Waits for the Cloud
The Park
The Town Park
Near the Duckpond
A Cold Wind
Two For You
The Crowd

*

I don't always have trouble titling a poem. There are occasions the perfect title has seemed to me a line that otherwise didn't fit in the poem. Other times I've used the poem's first line, sometimes going for the repetition, sometimes displacing the first line into the title position so the poem & title start at the same place.

When Gordon Lish expressed interest in poems I sent him (this was 16 ... 17 years ago?) he didn't like the titles I'd given them. I filled up sheets of paper brainstorming new titles and finally found ones that were acceptable to him (and to me). In giving "cake the walk" a title I decided that rather than just going with the first thought that seemed OK I would brainstorm at least 20 different titles.

Some of the above I don't like at all. Others seem almost maybe. None jumps out as just right. Not right now anyway.

Any preferences out there?

comments on "cake the walk" version 5

The two couplets beginning "forgive the cold" now occupy a pivot point for the poem. I'm quite fond of these two couplets. Following the Kill Your Babies advice I suppose these would be the obvious ones to eliminate.

I haven't worked on a title yet. "cake the walk" was never a title, just a name for the Word document.

"cake the walk" version 5

in hedges gusts rat
from lonesome scatter leaves
scurry to clump under that

just beyond the diamond
a stone bench waits for the cloud

which straggles from the splintery bleachers
trails along fences
touches bases

at the far end of the outfield swarms
the sponsors’
painted boards and tumbles over
into bushes

forgive the cold
its hold

who wouldn’t want
my hand

there’s cloud enough left in the oaks
to drop a drop on my sleeve
two, you say, for you

I appreciate this dark
on that shoulder

all the way up
link by link by link
ching ching
ching
to the backstop’s eave

the ringing I pat out
of the hand you warmed for me
in the crowded pocket
of the jacket you put on
not wanting to

YES TO LOVE, NO TO 8

Watch videos of weddings at SF City Hall

comments on “cake the walk”, version four

The stanza I’m closest to excising is the duck one. While I like the way the pond places the baseball diamond in a town park, thus helping prevent the reader from seeing some gigantic sports complex, the duck isn’t doing anything much. Not that he’s gotta exactly. I’m still thinking.

“cake the walk”, version four

forgive the cold
its hold

who wouldn’t want
my hand

just beyond the diamond
a stone bench waits for the cloud

which straggles from the splintery bleachers
trails along fences
even bases

at the end of the outfield swarms
the sponsors’
painted boards and tumbles over
into bushes

we passed the mallard
making his quiet circle in the pond
while among reeds his mate
tucked yellow bill under dun wing

in hedges gusts rat
from lonesome scatter leaves
scurry to clump under that

there’s cloud enough left in the oaks
to drop a drop on my sleeve
two, you say, for you

I appreciate this dark
on that shoulder

all the way up
link by link by link
ching ching
ching
to the backstop’s eave

the ringing I pat out
of the hand you warmed for me
in the crowded pocket
of the jacket you put on
not wanting to

comments on “cake the walk”, version three

No longer sticking to couplets. Trying out a cloud/crowd relation. The persons (“you” and “me”) in this version vaguer.

“cake the walk”, version three

forgive my hand
its cold

the stone bench waits for a cloud

and here the cloud straggles
from the splintery bleachers

the backstop’s eave
a game lost yesterday or last season

and goes to dampen the ducks
one is turning the wet pebble green of its head
in a circle and another circle and a whole new circle

the pond’s face sending these turns
off to the cattail reeds

in hedges gusts rat
these leaves leave a lonesome rest
for more company

ching ching ching
all the way up
link to link to link

the backstop ringing from the slap of the hand
you warmed for me

there is no rain falling but what the live oaks
clawed out of a cloud

one drop for you
three for me?

comments on “cake the walk”, version two

This is a rough cut. Nearly every thing seen in version one appears in version two. The inconsistent punctuation is dropped altogether. The poem is now in couplets.

“cake the walk”, version two

bits of leaves cake the walk
in darkening layers

take my trembling hand
forgive its cold

in hedges gusts rat
just before us leaves leave one rest for another

the stone bench waits for a cloud
which straggles down from splintery bleachers

a mallard soundlessly circles the pond
his mate in the reeds, head tucked deep in dun feathers

the gravel gnashes dankly under a shoe
my unheld hand rattles the fencing

it rings its links, faintly distracted
all the way up to the backstop’s eave

a squirrel is gone by the time I look up
apart, arms folded, we read to each other

the names of the team sponsors
some loyalty older and peeling

under the dripping knuckles of live oaks
at the top of the stairs

we embrace
and let each other go

comments on “cake the walk” version one

Haven’t versioned a poem on LuvSet in months. Time? “cake the walk” was written in February 1985.

I don’t remember who my companion was. Maybe Becky, a friend who I was sort of dating. Could be the companion was imagined.

I like the poem’s atmosphere, the drawing of the scene. I like the standing apart followed by the embrace.

“cake the walk,” version one

Little bits of leaves
cake the walk
stroll with me hand-in-hand
my hand trembles
a cold wind
rattles the bones of the trees
gust rats in hedges
dead leaves scurry across our feet
across concrete

sit with me
on a stone bench
a cloud drops earthward
straggles through the park
envelopes the duck pond
one mallard circles soundlessly
in the reeds his mate sleeps
head tucked deep in dull feathers

We stroll across the baseball diamond
you kick a clump of grass
the gravel patches crunch wetly
tepid red
I brush my unheld hand against the fence
the metal rattles
ringing faintly to the tip of the backstop

You point to a squirrel
in the overhanging oak
it’s gone, scampered out of sight
when I look up
I wrap my coat tighter
we stand apart, arms folded
read the little league sponsors’ painted advertisements
to one another

At the top of the concrete stairs
we embrace

the first wedding in Sonoma County

Smash the Egg

This is a delightful kinetic sculpture built by Joseph Herscher as "an entry in Cadbury's 'Unleash The Goo' competition, in which entrants must find the most creative way to break a creme egg."

Land and People and Chez Panisse

People stop by LoveSettlement from all around the world. Of the last hundred visitors (as of writing, 6/8/08) most are, of course, from the lower 48. But there’s a significant cluster in Europe. Britain mostly. One from Germany, one from Italy. Of the rest of the great world: Two Argentinians stopped by. One Malaysian, two Australians, and a New Zealander. It would be nice if they were all faithful LuvSet readers, but even if all they did was swing by and fail to find what brought them here it’s still kinda cool that somebody in Argentina or Malaysia could drive past the LuvSet cornershop for a glance at the lettering on the sign.

I would like to spend more time at blogs based outside the U.S. In my pile of reading I try to make sure I’ve got some literature in translation. But I don’t comfortably read any language other than English so that does limit things somewhat. I do get in my ruts and find myself in the same old places, almost all of them U.S.-based.

I originally came across Rami Zurayk’s Land and People blog because he writes in Beirut, Lebanon, which, as we know, can sometimes be hazardous. (Even more so than Oakland, I suppose.) I think there was some fighting going on at the time I captured the link, and the Zurayk family were sheltering from arms fire. Things seem to have quieted down.

Zurayk mainly writes about food politics. In today’s post he gives a tongue-in-cheek version of the argument that improvements for poor people are to blame for, well, the problems in the world: “Too many hard-working Chinese and Indians … think they should be able to eat pizza, meat and coffee and aspire to a reservation at Chez Panisse. They get blamed for raising global prices so much that poor Africans and Asians can't afford porridge and rice.”

I’ve seen that formula given for why we have global warming, extinctions, environmental degradation of all kinds … It’s the dangerous aspirations of Third World people.

The philosophy of Chez Panisse (hey, Chez Panisse is right around the corner from my house!) might be right up Rami Zurayk’s alley, actually. From the Chez Panisse website: “A good kitchen respects its sources, chooses ingredients that are sound, seasonal, local when possible, and appropriate to the event. … Chez Panisse gathers its material from known and trusted purveyors, known to be committed themselves to sound and sustainable practices … We seek farmers who know their seeds and soil, ranchers who care about the food their livestock eats, winemakers who know what their grapes have known, fish merchants who are concerned about the health of the seas.”

Rami Zurayk characterizes American food giving as, "Let them eat subsidized American corn shipped over in American ships." Sounds like the opposite of the Chez Panisse ideal.

Of course, Chez Panisse is darn expensive. But delicious. And, you know, if you’re going to lay out a wad on dinner at least you won’t be fucking up the planet.