Wednesday, April 14, 2010

The To Do List

The overhanging trees cast a murky shadowy dusk that hides more than true nightfall, none of the houses have numbers, and what people can be glimpsed offer only impassive sideways looks of mistrust, bad pasts, lost narratives. There, ahead, partially hidden by an over exuberant rhododendron, a lone red balloon and a stiletto spray painted in glow in the dark paint: a final right turn before the directions can be consigned to the glove box, the baking chocolate and whole chickens and lettuce and berries moved into the kitchen, the board games added to the assortment on the coffee table, the pin the tail on the donkey tacked to the wall by the fireplace, and greetings all around and dive into the hammock with a chapbook of poetry just released and a martini freshly shaken, ice-cold, for the final twelve minutes of daylight before dusk fully descends, and brings with it the future.



reading
my new favorite book: Neil Gaiman and Charles Vess : Instructions

weather
magnolias in bloom! daffodils in bloom! this horrible terrible no good very bad dreadful lingering cold in retreat