The Whitsun Weddings by Phillip Larkin

a Dickinson poem i might get tattooed.

It's crazy how much time dying empires spend thinking about the sanctity of toilets

My lovely supporters always get first dibs, but on principle I set my research posts to go public after a period of exclusivity. I'm particularly proud of this one, in which I investigate the recurring question of whether Scott did, in fact, die last: www.patreon.com/posts/last-t...

In the midst of the hard swirl of it all, some moments of perfection....

Named trees in Walden; or, Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau (1854), in order of occurrence.

Barred owl tonight. Earlier, I cried my eyes out after the chimney sweep left, wanting so badly to have M here, to share the decisions with, the chores and plans. Such emptiness at times. It's hot tonight for May in VT. Barred owl hooting from the edge of my yard, keeping this lonely soul company.

Last night I saw the short films made by 6 teams in a mere 48 hours and wow were they fun, creative, and beautifully done. Look what we can do together!

the thing about being creative is you have to say "no" to yourself a lot. you have to recognize the first thought to pop into your head is the tip of a long shadow cast by a weirder, more huge, and better thought.

Roses are redde Noble are the manatees For a bettir future Teach artes and humanityes

Just went out to fetch some firewood (still cold for May) and it's an absolute riot of birdsong out there. Gray catbird, robin, redstart, ovenbird, goldfinch, song sparrow, downy woodpecker, blue-headed vireo, common yellowthroat, a couple different warblers... many more I'm sure.

Against the insistent push of AI, most everyone I know—esp. those under 30—is creating on paper, using their hands, listening to vinyl, shooting film, sending letters. My daughter and friends are participating in a 48-hour film slam this week. I love them so much.

Also was given two new baking books last night, so I think I'll be diving into those this weekend.

Beautiful rainy day, warmed arepa and hot tea for breakfast, newly delivered wood covered snugly, newly planted seedlings drinking it in, sweet phoebe has returned to the nest on our porch for another year, counting my blessings.

Planted all my seedlings in the rain during my lunch break today and it was kinda wonderful.

Researchers have identified the remains of four members of a doomed 19th century expedition in the Arctic by matching DNA to the sailors' living descendants — and solved a case of mistaken identity along the way. https://cnn.it/3R3RFP3

Today's poem was the 13th weekly draft I've written with my remote writing partner. It was about stacking firewood, which is what I did during all of my work breaks today, and will be doing for the foreseeable future. And what M used to do, happily, and beautifully. I cried a lot.

It's chilly enough here that I have a fire going today, but the apple and cherry trees are confident about spring. 🌸🌸🌸

In spite of the wasp sting leg, I had a beautiful day yesterday, choosing flowers for myself, picking up vegetable and herb seedlings, visiting friends and their new chicks, planning some creative projects, and cooking a good dinner with my daughter. Wishing you all pockets of peace and beauty today

It’s not polarization, it’s White supremacy all the way down.

Stung in the thigh by a wasp that somehow got into my folded pair of pants inside my house and that is just how this week is going

always completely in love with this poem by Rick Barot

“As a solar eclipse swept across North America on April 8, 2024, there was a lull in seismic vibrations across the continent, a new analysis shows — at least in places where the spectacle stopped human observers in their tracks.” #scicomm www.sciencenews.org/article/seis... 🧪

Eaglet feeding time!

At last!!!!

Don’t start with a big idea. Start with a phrase, a line, a quote. Questions are very helpful. Begin with a few you’re carrying right now. -- Naomi Shihab Nye

Last night we took a ferry to an island where dear friends live in a tiny quirky house filled with books & musical instruments. They fed us a feast by a warming fire, followed by slabs of intensely chocolate cake and berries. Then drove us back to the ferry. Such good conversation and care. Perfect.

devastated to hear that the poet J. H. Prynne died this morning. Prynne’s work has been a source of fascination, inspiration, puzzlement, & awe for me since ~2011, when his book Kazoo Dreamboats totally rearranged what I believed poetry could be. His poems are a tremendous gift I will reread forever

One of my favorite maritime poems by Canadian Don Domanski. Exquisite poet you should be reading. beneath us the living are water the dead are salt and although we've tried all night although we've tried for countless nights ... we can't separate them with our longing

Sitting up in the gods, watching Florence + The Machine, singing, dancing, clapping, and making so much good noise.

For goodness sake, some of my favorite childhood memories involve the corner store!

What happened in the inbetweens this week was the green tips of tulip bulbs breaking the surface, was the tiniest buds pre-folding from the apple tree branches, was the phoebe testing last year's nest, was a hot air balloon wooshing above the house, was tiny moments of blissful forgetting

if you can pay attention to just how a comma annotates the music of thought sooner or later you may pay attention to the moment the dogwood buds open, and think about last year's timing, and then you may pay attention to how you are treated and how another person is treated, and ask questions

Diane Seuss, in strong form, from her recent collection Modern Poetry Little Song You can't stay vigilant and remain alive Or infinite vigilance is a kind of death.

Sperm whales’ communication closely parallels human language, study finds

My day

9 weeks. 9 new poem drafts, thanks to the kindness and patience of a dear friend who understands grief. Anyway, today's poem is about translation, music, and my dead husband coming back as a once lost and now found dessert fork.

First New College, then Hampshire College. We're coming to the end of the attempt to make higher education something other than hackwork, slavish devotion to job training for working and middle class, pre-wealth studies for the "elite." How fucking dull are these times of ours.

Well, crap

I'm moonscrolling

Nice view

Birthday eve. I wrote a poem with a friend, marveled over moon pictures, cooked dinner with my daughter, watched a good movie, and made plans to be out in the world tomorrow, away from work and screens. I will make the best of it because what else is there to do but find beauty and share it?

Come on then, and remove him.

And here’s the eclipse photo from Artemis II. I am in tears.

"Orion, the Moon, and the Earth. EVERYONE, in that picture" - #Artemis II Mission Control.

How can we not be thrilled and enthralled by this?

Y'all there is a woman and a black man circling the moon and NASA's mission control+ science teams are so diverse and people are nerding out about science and exploration this is all a gigantic middle finger to the stupid and hate and grotesque ghouls running our country

It's just so beautiful to hear these very human descriptions of the lunar surface from the Artemis II crew: their excitement, their knowledge, their power of observation and comparison. Poetic-scientific language in action.

But shall this crazed old man be tamely suffered to drag a whole ship’s company down to doom with him?