More from Mary

Oh, and what the heck. Here's one more.
"This is the World" first appeared in Juked before becoming a part of the Autumn House book, "a theory of everything."


This is the World

This is also the world
A small boy drops
a maple leaf down a well.
A girl, slightly larger, does likewise --
peering over the stone lip to guess
the leaf's curled and wayward descent.

Across the yard, behind a stardust bush,
the housecat is toying with something still alive.
It flits through the grass, now here now there,
delighting the cat with its antic struggle for flight.

I am in the world too, wondering:
Do I kill the bird for mercy? Do I take it inside?
What would Dickon from The Secret Garden do?
The book-animals loved him so, showing their mildest
bellies beneath satisfied, glinting eyes.

I might think we all want such love,
even from a half-dead bird -- except
my brother was once chased down a walking trail
by a man who'd just killed his first turkey
and to celebrate, downed three six-packs
and started firing at hikers. He hounded after
my brother, hollering for all the world
like Yosemite Sam, "I'm gonna get you, I'll get you!"

The man later told the police, "It seemed at the time
like the thing to do."

This is the world,
and where we spit,
where we stomp, where we fuck and crap,
and all that jack built, and whatever's next
and whether we forgive our father
or trust strangers to take zoloft,
and why the trees on one side of the hill
bud green before the others,
and if we make our way to Egypt,
and who there holds a broom, and who a gun,
and once we finally lie down at the end of the day
on our mattress or hammock or stone slab,
how the moon just keeps throbbing
so we sense loss too keenly,
and what finally is the thing to do --
and if we carry our children
inside our own bodies, and where
we plant our pumpkin seeds,
and why we fear caves
and dark
underwater places,
the dark under water,
the dark
-- someone please stop me,
I could go on forever, it is
after all, the world.

Poetry from Mary Crockett Hill

Mary Crockett Hill's A Theory of Everything was released this month by Autumn House Press. I'll post an interview with her next week in honor of National Poetry Month, but for now please allow this poem, which appeared in Pank before it became a part of the Autumn House collection, to serve as an introduction. (It's not exactly for the kids, so I'm not linking up with the Poetry Friday crew...)

Why I Gave Up on Astral Projection

My body, when was it
I realized you are so full
of shit? Literally. Shit.

The food and the churnings
-- all the blood-heavy
mass of you. The old binding

between us, now fixed.
There was a time I did not know
I even had a body.

I was all in my head,
nouns vibrating
like tiny harps.

It seemed inevitable to float
above those organs, that skin
so likely at any moment to slip

from my supine shell
and surge into the universe.
(I dreamed I could leave

then come back.
Will such faith also return?
The whiskered self

shaved clean again
by the cutting ache
for flight.) There is a blue cord

holding me back. And more --
the children, the child in me
who now knows what she eats,

my neighbor's dying lover, his rickety
lawn chair, the bend of my mouth saying no,
the waiting, the laundry, the need

to spoon and stir in a room
that will not be the moon
no matter, no matter how I worship it.

Thought for the day

It would be easier to be environmentally conscientious if all of my good ideas didn't come to me in the shower.

more generics

Sorry, I'm still on a Harris Teeter kick:

Product: Harris Teeter Instant Oatmeal
Review: I can't tell the difference between this and Quaker. Will definitely buy again.

Harris Teeter Spaghetti Sauce: Leads me to the question: Why am I buying spaghetti sauce in a jar at all? Should I really be weighing this stuff against Ragu? No. I should be making my own. When my friend Heidi and I were visiting the Czech Republic too many years back, we made it just about every night (when we weren't making potatoes). Just some garlic, onion, tomato paste, salt, maybe a little cream. It took about five minutes, was way cheaper than jarred spaghetti sauce (which I'm not sure they even had) and tasted better.

Haven't used my credit card yet in 2009. Wonder how long I can keep that up?
I have a friend who's been keeping hers in the freezer. (She read this online or in the paper, I forget where.) You take your card, stick it in a small plastic container, and fill the bottom with water. Freeze. Your card is surrounded by a block of ice. If you really need to use it, thaw under water. The ice makes you think about it twice. I haven't tried this yet, but it may come to that.

Food

Just posting pictures I've promised some of you over the last couple of months of various food items.

Election Night Cuisine



Birthday Party, as seen in the book "Hello, Cupcake"

Birthday Party, as seen in my brain. They didn't come out quite as well as I'd hoped, as evidenced by the fact that they could have passed for either Yoda or Shrek. (For the record, I was going for Yoda.) The ears were made out of fruit rollups, so they were kind of droopy...

resolutions part ii

I just looked back over my list of resolutions from last year and I don't even want to tell you how many I didn't keep. I suppose I'll have to just keep trying. I also need to add a new resolution about facebook, the little addiction that seems to be keeping me from doing real work. I'm not quitting cold turkey -- just giving myself a little carrot-stick thing, where I have to earn my time by writing. Haven't quite figured out my quota yet, but I did keep it on Jan. 1. (On New Year's Day I like to do some of the things I plan to keep on doing during the year, just to set the tone. Thus, I exercise, speak softly, and WRITE.
****
For Hanukkah this year we brought back make-it night, where the gifts you give are gifts you make. I got a necklace from my daughter and a candle holder from my son. They got a skirt and a Darth Maul cape. The skirt follows this pattern and has been my first attempt at sewing anything that wasn't a Halloween costume. Fabric is brown corduroy with white horses.

My next project is some pillows featuring drawings by the kids. (My son has been doing this guy over and over whom he just calls "jazzy guy." I love jazzy guy. I need to see if I can get my son to paint him. Or is that too much back seat driving?)

Toast!

A simple reminder for my budget-minded friends that toast is not just a little burnt crust on the side of a plate. Toast is a meal.
Consider:

French toast! We like challah French toast best, but in a pinch, white or wheat sandwich bread does just fine.
Cinnamon toast!
Camel Eye or Bird's nest or Bullet Toast. (I always liked the term "camel eye" best.) This is where you butter your frying pan, bite a small hole in the middle of your bread. Stick bread in pan. Crack egg in bread hole. Flip the whole thing over easy. Salt and serve.
Rarebit: This is basically cheddar cheese, doctored up and melted, over toast. Follow the link for a recipe.
A friend of mine likes to put baked beans on toast.
And let's not forget cheese toast!
Pizza toast!
Mushroom toast!
Feta and garlic toast!
Toast.