The clear light of dawn has trouble finding its way down
to the forest floor
The instruments we use to measure time
from clocks to calendars to the rings in our trees
preserve the illusion of order
and fall in splinters on the forest floor
When the sun sets on this brutal time
we will be waiting for
the winter to pass
the snow to melt
the ground to thaw
We will be waiting for the sun to rise again
and for the seeds to sprout
The sky is shattered
its broken pieces are
buried under dead leaves
on the forest floor
Infinite Jest was one of the most difficult books I ever read. To find out why, follow the link below to read my thoughts in the Fall 2021 issue of Blydyn Square Review.
Fran Liebowitz says that you can only truly relate to people who were born within 10 years of you. People who were born 20 years from my date of birth – those born in 1942 or 1982 – are alien creatures, literally born on a different planet than me. I have a slightly better understanding of those born in 1982 because I once lived on the planet they were born into, although when I arrived there I was already fully formed, more or less. Someone born on this day in that year would be turning 39.
Friendships that form over such temporal distances are rare, and like many such rarities they carry unique value in their opportunities for insight. Even if Fran is right, and friendships that try to reach across a generation are doomed to failure, it is often the impossible and senseless things in life that generate the most enjoyment. So, happy birthday 39.
In the year of '39 Assembled here the Volunteers In the days when lands were few Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn Sweetest sight ever seen And the night followed day And the storytellers say That the score brave souls inside For many a lonely day Sailed across the milky seas Ne'er looked back, never feared, never cried Don't you hear my call? Though you're many years away Don't you hear me calling you? Write your letters in the sand For the day I take your hand In the land that our grandchildren knew In the year of '39 Came a ship in from the blue The Volunteers came home that day And they bring good news Of a world so newly born Though their hearts so heavily weigh For the Earth is old and grey Little darlin', we'll away But my love this cannot be For so many years are gone Though I'm older but a year Your mother's eyes from your eyes cry to me
The long days are dwindling and the evenings growing cooler. Midtown remains the same: ever-changing.
One last long day in the sun and grass of Bryant Park ends in the early evening dark glow of the Campbell Bar.
Hope stays alive in anyone who has had a dream come true.
Sometimes we walk barefoot into the forest even though there are snakes in the leaves and sometimes some people still call you "your honor" but we know there's no honor among thieves
In the haze of our days when memory falters and the nights hide the loneliest sins We will carry our sacrifice up to the altar and look away when the slaughter begins
We were drowned on dry ground And we froze in the fire We were born as old women and men We drank from a tank That was dry, then was drier And our enemies loved us much more than our friends