Saturday, August 22, 2020



this morning I baked that completely fucked up pan of brownies and that’s my day so far though all this is saved by the fact that I saw two blonde llamas just chilling in the back of a truck at the beach the other day

last night I dreamed of a plane crash in the sky above my yard at first one white sneaker fell then another then more white sneakers fell faster then part of the wing came crashing down and the survivors were on my porch asking to come in asking for water asking to use the bathroom asking for help I used to work on the wiring inside those airplane wings with Alice I know exactly what they look like Alice are you here are you the wing burned and burned near my fig tree among all those white sneakers my name is on every single wing I ever tied and crimped the wire bundles for my name goes into the sky every time one of those planes flies and when they crash the people who inspect the crash sites know who wired the plane but they never tell because the knowing would be too much to bear 


Blogger Ms. Moon said...

I wonder how many people have flown over the earth and oceans in a plane in which your name was on/in the wing? I bet I have. Thank you.

August 22, 2020 at 5:37 PM  
Blogger Ramona Quimby said...

My dad fixed airplanes for a living (though that living eventually killed him) and I used to wonder how many of the planes I rode had he examined, replaced a part, did whatever alchemy mechanics do to make a plane fly. PS, seeing plane crashes are one of my recurring dreams.

August 22, 2020 at 5:42 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

In the wings and the fuselages and in engines too. I think about that so much about the ownership of my work but also my pride in how I did it how good I was at it and of how strong those planes were.

August 22, 2020 at 5:43 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Darling Poet I dream of that shop so much that it feels like my interior self my living ghost is still there. Now I live on my pension so the Company is still part of me. I believe your dad was in his planes too.

August 22, 2020 at 5:46 PM  
Blogger 37paddington said...

I will always think of you when I get on a plane now, and I will hope it is your name on the wire bundles inside the wing. It’s extraordinary that you did that really. Poet. Violinist. Wing maker.

August 22, 2020 at 6:15 PM  
Blogger 37paddington said...

Baker, too.

August 22, 2020 at 6:16 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Dear R well baker some days but not today. It really was extraordinary to have that job. When I moved out of the wire shop to the desk job the first boss I had there used to tell me that that shop had the worst reputation in the entire company for being a brutal place to work. Not only because of the repetitive motion injuries but because of the stress it caused to have to be so extremely careful. No room at all for accidents not ever. But the pay was good I raised my son alone on it and put him through private school. ✈️

August 22, 2020 at 6:23 PM  
Blogger Linda Sue said...

so you are the one who kept me up in the air, I love you for that! AND for the buggered up brownies because that is how I cook, I thought I was the only one. Brilliant job that actually paid $$$ for you and the lad. You are are a most remarkable inspiration and joy on this planet at this time! LOVEX

August 22, 2020 at 7:26 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Linda Sue thank you for bringing joy. I am a proud union supporter and though I rarely need my steel toed boots I still have them in my arsenal in case I decide to rise up against the patriarchy. They are kickers those boots. Brownies are far from the first baking mishap I’ve had. I built a toddler sized challah last Christmas time and dropped it on its way out of the oven because it was so heavy. I had accidentally doubled the recipe. The good part is getting my hands in it though. Poor brownies. Not cake not pudding.

August 22, 2020 at 7:39 PM  
Blogger Barbara said...

I like that custardy state between cake and pudding so your brownies look perfect to me! I too shall think of you next time I get on a whisper jet. You know how much I sympathize with hand and wrist related trauma, being a few bones shy of a right wrist myself with what’s left aching with age. Your hands are doing such beautiful things, making music, and that magnificent challah, perfectly braided. Much love

August 23, 2020 at 12:29 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Barbara hello my friend. That was the last good thing I baked except for an acorn squash that was delicious
but that doesn’t count. I know you feel the wrist pain. I think of you often as your gifts are in my house here and there and my most beloved Tarot deck inside the box you sent. Be well darling. Love from me and the three insane cats.

August 28, 2020 at 4:50 PM  

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