last blackbird of the summer
2002-08-27 - 5:46 p.m.
This will be short as I am expecting to be picked up for dinner at any moment. We shall go eat Burmese food (?). I've never had Burmese food, and am not at all certain I'm in the mood for it. I am certain I am in the mood for Martha's (or even Roger's) tacos authenticos over at Mario's. Martha (the mom) is the best cook, but I'll take Roger's (F's older brother) cooking in a pinch.
I found a perfect nightstand in the trash room last night. It is clean and not bug-infested (I learned my IV lessons very well, thank you!) and it now sits next to my bed, holding my ferociously large pile of books. I'm running out of space in a serious way, which is why we'll soon move!
I have a lesson tomorrow and of course have not learned my new song. Which all comes back to the point that I really don't want to go up to Maryland tonight to have dinner with this other couple, but I can't back out now. Unless I get another coughing attack like I had earlier today. I was hacking for 10 minutes straight. I went so far as to get my asthma Rx out of my purse, but decided not to get it filled after all, as I don't think it was asthma.
This is a boring entry, so I shall close, as usual, with your final installment of Wallace Stevens' "13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird."
"It was evening all afternoon./ It was snowing/ And it was going to snow./ The blackbird sat/ In the cedar limbs."
Any votes on what poem I shall give you next? Perhaps I shall dole out the Stabat Mater--would you all like that? Here's a little tastie...
"Stabat Mater dolorosa/ Juxta crucem lacrymosa/ Dum pendebat Filius."
For those who are in a mood to be impressed with my towering intellect, I wrote that from memory. And here's something else for you too, from Robert Shaw...
"Stabat pater fortunatus
Happy as a hippopatus
Up to here in muck and mire.
Hearing sounds beyond believing,
Angel voices Halloweaving,
Quel orchestrand WHAT A CHOIR!"
I am pissed that he died before I got a chance to sing with him. Rats to me and rats to you--over and out.
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