Great maker of messy, lumpy sculpture;
even in the rain she wore a mask
and still got gravely ill: mineral dust.
She’s showing smaller pieces, crystals, rocks,
sculpted forms in bronze and aluminum.
Objets. It’s easy to dismiss this work.
The pillows’ polished alabaster gleams
Baxter’s fucked-up ravioli pillows
The pillows made me cry, so personal.
Desire for something is not longing
Every fold, every dimple, every scrunched up bit
is there. It’s easy to dismiss this work.
The Stanger. 2 April 2014.
Jen Graves, “Debra Baxter’s Five Perfect Pillows”.
Such success shipping supplies
See Sounders spectacle
The Seattle Times, 5 April 2014.
Ángel González, “Starbucks combining high-end roastery with Capitol Hill café”.
Nick Perry and Eileen Ng, “China ship hears ‘signal’; unclear if jet-related”.
Joshua Mayers, “Sounders FC resumes rivalry with Portland”.
Lolita C. Baldor, “Hagel: US strongly committed to protecting Japan”.
Don’t expect to genetically — fish soon,
deciding that grocers, investors:
“manure response” country.
The Seattle Times, 4 April 2014.
Mary Clare Jalonick, “Engineered salmon may be a tough sell”.
Bordering on a coast,
a person who resides in a place,
a republic in South America, on the Pacific Coast,
at a great distance; a long way off; at a remote point.
A cardinal point of the compass, lying in the plane of the meridian and to the left of a person facing the rising sun.
Tired; worn-out; exhausted,
next after the first; being the ordinal number for two.
The period of darkness between sunset and sunrise,
a shelter that is the usual residence of a family,
greater in size, extent, or importance,
a small earthquake or tremor that follows a major earthquake.
To go on after suspension or interruption:
the fifth day of the week, following Wednesday,
that comes after or next in order or time; ensuing.
Greatness of size or amount.
A series of vibrations induced in the earth’s crust
by the abrupt rupture and rebound of rocks
in which elastic strain
Injury or harm that reduces value or usefulness
being more than two but fewer than many in number or kind:
a cardinal number, 10 times 100.
The place in which one’s domestic affections are centered.
To be the cause of; bring about
a cardinal number, five plus one.
The Seattle Times, 3 April 2014.
« Coastal residents of Chile’s far north spent a second sleepless night outside their homes as major aftershocks continued Thursday following a magnitude-8.2 earthquake that damaged several thousand homes and caused six deaths. »
Luis Hidalgo, “Aftershocks rattle Chile as military keeps order”.
No – you buy your own $625,600 duck. Poor duck. You know, buy up 100: your own duck jury.
Good work, duck. Now you know. Do go.
The Seattle Times, 2 April 2014.
Sanjay Bhatt, “Slide erased their homes, but maybe not their loans”.
Ben Nuckols, “Scandal-weary voters boot DC mayor from office”.
We want to be respectful
about what we’re doing :
searching through the debris,
through our thoughts and prayers.
I’m just waiting to get a signal.
Catch and release
is not a crime.
That’s the bottom line.
We just hope they get it right
and make identifications.
You used to argue.
It got me sick.
It’s a process
working through the kinks.
It probably works out better this way.
I’m just waiting
to get a signal.
It could be 24 hours,
it could be 24 days.
We’ll see how it turns out.
The Seattle Times, 1 April 2014.
Hal Bernton, Kyung M. Song and Jack Broom, “22 names of missing released; Inslee seeks more federal aid”.
Greg Beacham, Don Baylor breaks leg while catching 1st pitch”.
“Ump’s call overturned, 1st time by expanded replay”.
Nick Provenza, “Anglers protest fishing regulations at Rockport”.
Your catholic habit escapes
like black rabbits out the gate.
They ruffle the pale minty grasses.
Your gaze slithers up my calves.
It makes me shed like a yellow boa.
Skin as thin as paper falls below on sandy loam.
You sever my head on blood-tarnished terrain;
reduce me to golden remains.
An obsidian rabbit’s fate would be another,
for your discerning eyes fear form before color.
The ocean and the sky had faded.
We searched both with piercing eyes
for what churns in the tides,
what stirs within them, agitated:
The sunken ships and sorrow pale
of sailors who had cast their boats
into the very sea they sail
but vessels fill and fail to float.
1. WHAT EXCITES YOU ABOUT OULIPOST?
This will be my my first time writing a poem each day and writing for NaPoWriMo. My mother used to participate in it when I was much younger and she always enjoyed her experience. I am excited for the challenge and for the heap of resulting poems.
2. WHAT, IF ANYTHING, SCARES YOU ABOUT OULIPOST?
I don’t believe there’s anything to fear. Is there something I’m not being told?
3. HAVE YOU WRITTEN EXPERIMENTAL OR FOUND POETRY BEFORE? IF SO, TELL US ABOUT IT.
I’ve taken a few courses in poetry and I have always tried to break free from the mold with my assignments. This April will be more experimental and more found than anything I’ve done before.
4. WHAT NEWSPAPER WILL SERVE AS YOUR SOURCE TEXT?
The Seattle Times.
5. WHO’S YOUR SPIRIT OULIPIAN?
If anyone can inspire me to create with found objects, it’s Marcel Duchamp.
Dusting the rafters
of cedar timber
my ethereal fingers
meet no splinters.
Sappy amber sunlight
filters through flax curtains;
the remnant light they let in
bleaches me china-white.
My temporal body,
robust and sinewy,
ceded his opacity
to triumphant transparency.