Jan. 1st, 2009
Mahler in New York
by Joseph Fasano
Now when I go out, the wind pulls me
into the grave. I go out
to part the hair of a child I left behind,
and he pushes his face into my cuffs, to smell the wind.
If I carry my father with me, it is the way
a horse carries autumn in its mane.
If I remember my brother,
it is as if a buck had knelt down
in a room I was in.
I kneel, and the wind kneels down in me.
What is it to have a history, a flock
buried in the blindness of winter?
Try crawling with two violins
into the hallway of your father’s hearse.
It is filled with sparrows.
Sometimes I go to the field
and the field is bare. There is the wind,
which entrusts me;
there is a woman walking with a pail of milk,
a man who tilts his bread in the sun;
there is the black heart of a mare
in the milk—or is it the wind, the way it goes?
I don’t know about the wind, about the way
it goes. All I know is that sometimes
someone will pick up the black violin of his childhood
and start playing—that it sits there on his shoulder
like a thin gray falcon asleep in its blinders,
and that we carry each other this way
because it is the way we would like to be carried:
sometimes with mercy, sometimes without.
I don't do resolutions at this time of year; in fact, I make them at any time of year that isn't now because the winter festivities brainwash me into thinking I'm capable of things that I'm not really capable of and I break all my resolutions by February. So. I don't know. That was a fairly pointless way of opening this post.
I will say, though, that I hope expand my flist some and to get back to my regular pattern of posting a handful of times during the day, if only because I sort of miss it, and it stopped me from being piss lazy. True story.
YULETIDE REVEAL!!!! I wrote more for Yuletide in that span of a week or whatever it was than I have all year for anything. RIDICULOUS. My main fics were Strength in Numbers (ensemble, Army Wives) and I Will Dream I Was a Daughter (Ruth, Spooks) for ceridwyn2. I also wrote three pinch-hits/yuletide treats: Half-Life (Spooks) which looks at Ros between seasons 6 and 7; Asynchrony (Spooks) which is about Lucas re-adjusting to England (I suspect I gave myself away with that one; what say you tigertrapped?); and Lloyd's Still Got Them Polaroids (Life) which is about Tidwell's half-endearing, half-creepy interest in Dani Reese.
Eventually I will do that fic round up meme though probably not before I do another picspam. Haha. Plus, I sort of want to do "previously, in fandom" posts for all the shows that I stopped talking about a couple of months ago. But to do that I sort of need to catch up with them? Oh dear.
GIP! I love this icon, but I still think it would be funnier if the line was I shit thee not.
by Bei Dao
the ancients play chess in the starry sky
the endgame flickers
a bird locked in a clock
jumps out to tell the time
the sun climbs over the wall like an old man
and goes through the flea market
throwing mirror light on
a rusted copper plate
gods drink water from earthen jars
a bow asks a string for directions
a boy sets out to inherit the ocean
from the edge of the sky
seeds sown along the high noon
death blossoms outside my window
resisting, the tree takes on a hurricane's
violent original shape
(Translation by Eliot Weinberger)