Friday, March 31, 2017

this morning I sat on the deck and drank a cup of tea in my nightgown and my fancy pink wool coat finally tea on the deck for the first time
the birdsong was astounding
I discovered an ornamental cherry tree I think it's a Kwanzan but I have to let it flower out before I can identify it for sure right now there are soft purplish-pink petals on it there are red leaves on my Japanese maple little white flowers below the deck and purple wood violets all over the forest floor
there were five bunnies frolicking near the deer path I had to hold very still to see them at first I thought they were giant squirrels thank The Animal Gods for my binoculars which travel everywhere with me these days
yesterday I vomited hard 20 ounces worth in one of those blue measurable hospital puke bags it was pretty serious I think I vomited stuff that had been in me since 1971 as well as the phenergan which Jackson (my new doctor is named Jackson first name and he told me to call him Jackson not doctor anything) prescribed for me since the zofran was not working
obviously not working
there is a black bear on my island named Cody I did not name him I hope he visits I have a picture of him that I will scan as soon as I can
I visit the buffalos every day now on my way to the beach it is so nice to have actual buffalos as neighbors instead of the horrible people buffalos who were my last neighbors


my son is on his way here I asked him if he could drive me to La Conner to see if the tulips are blooming I think the tulip festival starts tomorrow but I may have dreamed that

I'm going to get dressed in actual clothes now then lie down and concentrate on keeping my yogurt in

Happy Friday Darklings I believe hope is in the air

My Mother Would Be a Falconress

My mother would be a falconress,
And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist,
would fly to bring back
from the blue of the sky to her, bleeding, a prize,
where I dream in my little hood with many bells
jangling when I'd turn my head.

My mother would be a falconress,
and she sends me as far as her will goes.
She lets me ride to the end of her curb
where I fall back in anguish.
I dread that she will cast me away,
for I fall, I mis-take, I fail in her mission.

She would bring down the little birds.
And I would bring down the little birds.
When will she let me bring down the little birds,
pierced from their flight with their necks broken,
their heads like flowers limp from the stem?

I tread my mother's wrist and would draw blood.
Behind the little hood my eyes are hooded.
I have gone back into my hooded silence,
talking to myself and dropping off to sleep.

For she has muffled my dreams in the hood she has made me,
sewn round with bells, jangling when I move.
She rides with her little falcon upon her wrist.
She uses a barb that brings me to cower.
She sends me abroad to try my wings
and I come back to her. I would bring down
the little birds to her
I may not tear into, I must bring back perfectly.

I tear at her wrist with my beak to draw blood,
and her eye holds me, anguisht, terrifying.
She draws a limit to my flight.
Never beyond my sight, she says.
She trains me to fetch and to limit myself in fetching.
She rewards me with meat for my dinner.
But I must never eat what she sends me to bring her.

Yet it would have been beautiful, if she would have carried me,
always, in a little hood with the bells ringing,
at her wrist, and her riding
to the great falcon hunt, and me
flying up to the curb of my heart from her heart
to bring down the skylark from the blue to her feet,
straining, and then released for the flight.

My mother would be a falconress,
and I her gerfalcon raised at her will,
from her wrist sent flying, as if I were her own
pride, as if her pride
knew no limits, as if her mind
sought in me flight beyond the horizon.

Ah, but high, high in the air I flew.
And far, far beyond the curb of her will,
were the blue hills where the falcons nest.
And then I saw west to the dying sun--
it seemd my human soul went down in flames.

I tore at her wrist, at the hold she had for me,
until the blood ran hot and I heard her cry out,
far, far beyond the curb of her will

to horizons of stars beyond the ringing hills of the world where
the falcons nest
I saw, and I tore at her wrist with my savage beak.
I flew, as if sight flew from the anguish in her eye beyond her sight,
sent from my striking loose, from the cruel strike at her wrist,
striking out from the blood to be free of her.

My mother would be a falconress,
and even now, years after this,
when the wounds I left her had surely heald,
and the woman is dead,
her fierce eyes closed, and if her heart
were broken, it is stilld

I would be a falcon and go free.
I tread her wrist and wear the hood,
talking to myself, and would draw blood.

~ Robert Duncan

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

movement like water

things that have changed in the last 90 days:

I no longer fear the phone ringing
the forest does not press down on my chest at night the trees do not frighten nor do they oppress now
at dusk I listen to the owls from my deck throating huge echoes back and forth to one another
at dusk I listen to the frogs from my front porch they are noisy and happy
new music (owls frogs)
I have a dog friend Arthur who I adore even though I stepped in his poo in my slippers yesterday
I sleep with my binoculars and in the morning I listen to the wind and watch the sky
a hawk lives in my yard his legs are thick and feathered each time he comes I become entirely still
strangers have been stopping their cars on my dead end road and wandering around with cameras with giant lenses these are birders harmless people with as little interest in me as I have in them and I know this island is a birder's paradise
my smart watch reminds me to breathe mindfully for one minute every hour
there is no longer pain in my stomach
I still weep for my lost LB but I now believe I can someday forgive myself
I have a brand new doctor close by I see him tomorrow for the first time then I can fire the fake doctor doctor nurse and DOGNURSE is next except I need her for another year in order to ease my way through SSDI matters (I have to prove I'm still crazy after all these years to a caseworker this year and I'll need a note from DOGNURSE though I could just have them call the hospital haha)
I think I might become a writer again
my violin is awake
yesterday at the grocers I bought an honestly sweet watermelon four honeycrisp apples yogurt cauliflower an avocado roll cottage cheese provolone cheese and pre-made tomato soup as I don't have the energy to stand long enough to chop veggies to make it myself I almost fainted in the store no pain but no strength either
I dream of my soon to be garden constantly I make lists and have drawn plans
there is a blue spruce in my forest so startling and gorgeous I just found it two days ago
my Japanese maple is growing red leaves
I have such great joy and delight in watching my land open its fists to spring

things that "come right back up" and must be avoided:
wheat anything
eggs (eggs and I have never got along but now my body violently rejects them)


none of this is what I wanted to write about though
I got a notice for a class reunion and it got me thinking about the (then) boy who tortured me all through junior high and into high school by grabbing and rubbing my breasts and cupping my vagina pushing me against the wall in the music practice room shoving his tongue down my throat as he groped me and other horrible things I started thinking about him and I did a wee Google search and indeed I found him and now he lives in Texas with his children and grandchildren and he goes to church and plays violin in the church orchestra and of course I never told on him I never told anyone I didn't even speak to anyone until I was 27 and my life then was in grave danger without that asshole who gravitated toward my shy my weak my nearly invisible and the truth is I want to out him here I want to write his name here over and over until he Googles himself one day and finds out that I have done so and this horrifying man in the White House makes me think of being raped I cannot even look at his face without feeling that specific sick without feeling attacked and this (then) boy who made my skin crawl but who was more powerful than I keeps floating around in my brain his sweaty little hands his disregard for human decency up in his church there in Texas playing his violin I wonder if he is still vile still groping still harming I suspect so I wonder if there were others other sad silent wounded girls

that's what I really wanted to write about


Good spring morning Darklings it is light now and today I'm going to drive to the next town over to find my new doctor


Monday, March 27, 2017

Depression Before Spring

The cock crows
But no queen rises.

The hair of my blonde
Is dazzling,
As the spittle of cows
Threading the wind.

Ho! Ho!

But ki-ki-ri-ki
Brings no rou-cou,
No rou-cou-cou.

But no queen comes
In slipper green.

~ Wallace Stevens

Sunday, March 26, 2017


my friend came to visit my first ever visitor and she pointed out every little thing that was not perfect in Summer's End then she told me she voted for Lord Voldemort and my stomach flopped over then I took her to my little secret breakfast spot in the park and she ate and I pushed food around on my plate pretending to eat and I was sick and should not have gone but wanted to show off my house but now I feel bad about it I do this house is spectacular but not in a fancypants kind of way in her words this area is more rustic than I thought which was not a compliment well jesuscrispycakes I told her it was in the forest



also I spoke to my brother a while ago and he asked if I had met any of my neighbors and I told him I had met Karen and her dog Arthur but that Karen no longer speaks to me maybe because I'm always wearing my nightgown because I've been sick for so long and my brother said I thought that's how everyone dresses out there and I love him so goddamned much because he made me laugh for the first time in three months and he understands rustic I think because we are campers were raised as campers and it never left us

(I love you my brother thank you for that)

Dear Darklings, The Animal Gods were in attendance

some of you know I was in hospital again for pancreatitis I got out Wednesday I think or Tuesday I lost complete track of time hooked up as I was to a fairly steady stream of dilaudid which made my shoulders ache and my dreams spectacular after my son drove me to the ER in Mt. Vernon as I was puking on my shoes which btw if you ever want attention fast in a hospital puking is key this is my first day sitting up and I'm not sure how long I can sustain that but I wanted to write about how lovely the little hospital was how attentive the nurses were how careful the physicians after of course the fight over my psych meds which is always the same fight the same oh we don't want you to take them conversation until I swing wide and I warned them I would swing wide and I did because there is nothing like physical pain to bring about a depressive or manic episode so after the endless weeping saline in saline out so to speak they changed their minds

I had two dreams I remember distinctly the first was my son sitting in the chair next to my bed he got up and waked toward the bathroom door and as he walked he grew a thick orange and black swishing tail then he transformed into a tiger where he leapt on top of the bathroom door and sat watching me

the second dream was my son sitting in the chair next to my bed holding a huge golden dog and a huge black dog on leashes the dogs the size of full grown male lions

in the background during my stay the television stayed on a station that was playing Criminal Minds non-stop 24/7 I never watch Criminal Minds or any of those crime shows because of the ultra violence of them but I was so filled with drugs and pain that I could not find my way to the button on the bed that would turn off the television

I feel that my son and the Animal Gods were protecting me

this morning we went to the beach an 8 minute drive because I had to get out I noticed two giant buffalos in a yard where I had only before seen trees and meadow and cherry trees all over the place in their fancy pink it felt good to get dressed as it will feel good to get back into my soft nightgown here in a minute

I am about done but before I go I want to show you where I'm going to plant my garden as soon as I have the strength my son pulled the noisy goddamned rhododendrons out with a chain and his truck revealing three cantilevered raised garden beds right outside my kitchen and I am unsure of my use of cantilevered here which comes as no surprise since I recently did not have the where-with-all to turn my head to barf

here is the first giant rootball he pulled out and you can see the chain attached to it those rhodies were ten to twelve feet tall and I hate them as their petals are disgusting and sticky when they fall and even though they're pretty they are literally everywhere here as pesky as ivy

here are the three beds there are still some roots that need to be pulled but it hasn't stopped raining since that day it doesn't look like much yet but the beds are twelve feet long (the three together) and four feet wide and very deep perfect for tomatoes and zucchini and snow peas and carrots oh my

and one other thing right before I went to my wee visit away a male Rough-Legged Hawk or Buteo lagopus if you love words and names flew up right outside my bedroom window up up up into a tree where he perched forever until he flew down and left via the deer trail in my backyard according to my bird book he has a 53 inch wingspan I thought at first he was an owl come to collect my soul

that's all the news that fits as soon as my innards heal I'm going to the John Deere store to get me a chainsaw

and one of those green hats


Tuesday, March 14, 2017

I slept exactly two hours last night and here I am confused muddle-headed thick and weird. Business as usual. The life bipolar. When? When did you get sick? DOGNURSE demands an answer.

Walking tall
You look at it all
You were not the same after that
Til someone died on the water slide
You were not the same after that
You got one good trick and you're hanging on
You're hanging on
You're hanging on
You're hanging on
You're hanging on
~ Ben Folds

Monday, March 6, 2017

For Mary Moon

Peeps 1 and 2


I haven't written here lately because I've had a severe case of pancreatitis I got hold of the physician who treated me when I was in hospital last year and she thankfully sent me ten Zofran to keep the womit in

today is the first day I have felt like eating I had chili now I am sorry I did but I'm still upright

I have a fig tree but it has been snowing and I haven't planted it on account of snow down my pants and the sick it doesn't look like much of a fig tree yet but trust me it will eventually the piglet and sleeping kitty and chunk of concrete with marbles embedded in it are from Paris the Genius Cat's grave they will guard the tree as she grows

I have been having a severe spiritual crisis since moving here the feeling that the Animal Gods turned their faces from me has been strong I suppose there are only a few people here who understand my relationship with them who realize that this is truly who I am (my son understands and my brother too) and I have been incredibly sad and lonely until the deer in the photo up top visited me this morning when I was having coffee on my deck she was huge and so calm and we looked at each other for a long time and I felt baptized and blessed and forgiven

I have named her Bliss

and it's snowing again