Happy Thanksgiving!



Oh boy, I am the cooker of the turkey this year. This morning I woke later than intended, had trouble locating the giblets, and had a hysterical conversation with Jr. Who said, "Where is the ASS?" with a rising note of hysteria in her voice. I was confused, seemed to me the turkey ass should be where the big hole is...Everyone should remain calm as giblets have been found, removed, and turkey is in oven. Oh god, just realized I forgot about gravy...shit! I think I need flour...must research how to make turkey gravy...Everyone have a fantastic holiday (including you lovely Fourth Person and you, JamieJamieJamie, my fellow Binder sufferer.)

One Day is there of the Series

One Day is there of the Series
Termed Thanksgiving Day.
Celebrated part at Table
Part in Memory.

Neither Patriarch nor Pussy
I dissect the Play
Seems it to my Hooded thinking
Reflex Holiday.

Had there been no sharp Subtraction
From the early Sum--
Not an Acre or a Caption
Where was once a Room--

Not a Mention, whose small Pebble
Wrinkled any Sea,
Unto Such, were such Assembly
'Twere Thanksgiving Day.

Emily Dickinson

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz



Bee Movie SUCKED.


Disobedience

James James
Morrison Morrison
Weatherby George Dupree
Took great
Care of his Mother,
Though he was only three.
James James Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he;
"You must never go down
to the end of the town,
if you don't go down with me."

James James
Morrison's Mother
Put on a golden gown.
James James Morrison's Mother
Drove to the end of the town.
James James Morrison's Mother
Said to herself, said she:
"I can get right down
to the end of the town
and be back in time for tea."

King John
Put up a notice,
"LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER
SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
LAST SEEN
WANDERING VAGUELY:
QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD,
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN
TO THE END OF THE TOWN -
FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!"

James James
Morrison Morrison
(Commonly known as Jim)
Told his
Other relations
Not to go blaming him.
James James
Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he:
"You must never go down to the end of the town
without consulting me."

James James
Morrison's mother
Hasn't been heard of since.
King John said he was sorry,
So did the Queen and Prince.
King John
(Somebody told me)
Said to a man he knew:
If people go down to the end of the town, well,
what can anyone do?"

A. A. Milne

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhh



Saturday afternoon and taking Kate to see Bee movie later. I don't want to see Bee movie, I don't want to clean this house or go to the grocery store or do anything else I have to do. I want the kids to disappear and I want to write. Their father, Boat Boy, is probably still sleeping off last night's party in his cabin on the harbor. No child support from him and no time with the kids spent by him. He emailed me that he wasn't evading my phone calls re: missing support--his phone was destroyed because he "fell in the water." There is no God because instead of drowning, Cap'n Chrissy was well enough to email me. If I don't get out of this house minus children in a place that isn't Binder I am going to kill myself. Walls closing in, anxiety attacks back and I'm fat as a house (3:00 am Halloween chocolate watching What Not to Wear and America's Psychic Challenge.) Something has got to give.

I Am Vertical


But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
Sucking up minerals and motherly love
So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me, a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them--
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
The the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

Sylvia Plath