Saturday, March 6, 2021

Pig and farm report


This morning at dawn or just before I snailed in my bathtub shivering with my little window open to let steam hiss out thinking how I have made myself smaller and smaller to fit inside the pandemic this shrinking as though the air has been squeezed out of my body and water lots of water and essential salt and light too and even now that I have enough money to buy fruit on the smack top of March as in kiwi as in pear as in apple as in banana as in ruby grapefruit all gleaming on my kitchen table a richness a wealth of fruit even now that I have enough money to make a spring potato salad with tiny red purple and white potatoes and fresh dill and Hungarian paprika and real pepper and the last of the curry from the Souk in Seattle even now I still worry about wasting the least bit of food an egg gone bad the end of a loaf of bread turned stale can vex me and even though I still try to little myself down to bead into the smallest portion of my dreambody where it rains and the roof stays true on my house in the woods and the sea and this morning cinnamon rolled in the bathtub I envision myself in this beloved house with it bedrooms its compass rooms its tall ceilings its granite countered kitchen standing in a corner unable to move to this old beast computer to write because I have become cramped this plague year my wings folded damp and so today I send a prayer to the Animal Gods Who Watch Over Me to stretch out to my maximum beauty I send a prayer to the Animal Gods Who Watch Over Me to let my cocooning be swift and my emergence painless sleek and shimmery

good evening Darklings we are almost there I made it here I typed the words I am shaking with all the doubt that piles up when I stop my writing practice and time has stopped in my head and my eyebulbs burn with pollen swift and dark and swift

sending love dear beasts


Blogger Linda Sue said...

I keep saying that I can not wait to unfold, but it is not true. Afraid I will break when I uncurl and face the out there, never been comfortable with that which is out there but now, less so. We will be needing a fierce army of animal spirits. Pleased to hear that you have a table full of fruit, staying "reglur". Lovely to read you once again! Missed you, missed your excellent words in excellent sentences! Xx

March 6, 2021 at 6:39 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Dear Linda Sue it is daunting always!!! But yes so much more now. I don’t think it will ever be easy again. I don’t think it ever was easy but the daunt now. And we have so much further to go. XO

March 6, 2021 at 6:47 PM  
Blogger Ms. Moon said...

I think I am no longer changing and that this is my form forever now. Small in movement and in dreams. My wings are stunted things. Like chickens I can fly but not very far, not very high. Your words, however, make my heart leap out of this fat old moth sac.
I have missed them so.

March 7, 2021 at 6:52 AM  
Blogger Rebecca said...

i bless my gods who bless your gods who lick down your bristled up fur calm enough to crawl out to send out your head to let loose your feet to open your hands. more, please.

March 7, 2021 at 7:07 AM  
Blogger Elizabeth said...

always, the pig and farm report.

March 7, 2021 at 11:29 AM  
Blogger Barbara said...

Sending love right back dear poet.

March 7, 2021 at 5:22 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Mary chickens are rare beautiful beasts to which to aspire. XO

March 7, 2021 at 6:22 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Rebecca hello from over here. Stay safe. Love, Rebecca the Lesser

March 7, 2021 at 6:23 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Elizabeth, I had to come out of my cave eventually. The report waits for no man. Or woman. XXOO

March 7, 2021 at 6:25 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Barbara, hello my friend in the land of honey. I’m so glad you followed me here. XXOO

March 7, 2021 at 6:27 PM  
Blogger 37paddington said...

You wrote words, you did it, and they are beautiful and they are yours. I missed you.

March 9, 2021 at 11:17 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home