Salt water taffy–two thousand miles from Atlantic City (Clines Corners).
I want one but it is too kitschy to actually purchase.
Years ago I bought a turquoise and silver spider bracelet here. Just got earrings to match.
At Del’s, the “petit sirloin”is 8 oz.
There were giants in the earth in those days.
My daughter Isabel and I sat down to translate Chiyo-ni, probably the most famous 18th century Japanese woman haiku poet–no easy task, but an exciting one. Autumn poems seemed appropriate.
hishihishi to mono to
To see the rest–check out Issa’s Untidy Hut–a terrific haiku blog–http://lilliputreview.blogspot.com/2012/10/on-translating-chiyo-ni-isabel-winson.html
“Dizzy Sushi” Part 1 ~ Tokyo
The first thing I saw in Japan was a corpse. It was lying under a canvas sheet on a gurney in the Tokyo airport, the shoulders and feet bound by wide leather cargo belts. A warm mist clouded the windows of the shuttle that took us from the plane to the terminal.
Check it out–http://tinyurl.com/dizzykickstarter
I had a lovely time yesterday with Steve, sitting in the very blue courtyard of the SF Art Institute under an equally blue sky. We were listening to his audio piece “The Very Rich Hours” which includes ten people each describing a spot in New Mexico that is important to the speaker.
I wanted to know how the composer got such meditative and poetic monologues from them. Steve said it was because he left them alone. He’d hook them up with earphones to record, and so in essence they were talking to themselves–or the wind.
He also said that during this residency he’d been playing the objects found in his studio–light bulbs, staples, styrofoam.
Inspiring to re-connect with the now Seattle based composer who lived for many years in New Mexico. Sometimes people see the world differently than I do–Steve Peters hears it differently.
And you can read about his time at SFAI here
Bit of my poem about Great Salt Lake–to see all, check out Poem of the Week at The Toucan.
whatever I do
I pray I don’t
and turn to salt
This poem is part of a sequence entitled “Malpais”–about my illness, surgery, and sojourn in the Beth Israel Hospital over 35 years ago. I only started writing about it in its entirety earlier this year.
by Miriam Sagan
my name is on my wrist
so it has come to this
there’s screaming down the hall
but why I can’t recall
they say the screamer is me
but this is hard to see
It appeared in Camel Saloon today–check the rest out…