and that’s the news
the weather writes
about the weather
for being the weather
Scud
28.8.26
The Count, by Pravasan Pillay
It’s a Monday. I stand at the kitchen sink, and wash and dry the lid, which is from a tin of mackerel. It’s a thin piece of rectangular metal, that has a slight curve, and a ring pull attached on one end. One side of the lid is dull, and the other side is brushed and shiny.
I open the cupboard below the sink and feel my way to a plastic bucket that is hidden behind the trash can. I take the bucket out the cupboard, and shake it to create room. I drop the lid into it. It clanks as it hits the other lids. I’m not sure how many are in it now.
I started saving them out of curiosity. My wife casually asked me one day at lunch to estimate how many tins of mackerel I think I eat in a year. The question stuck with me, and needled. So, I devised this method to keep track of my annual consumption.
I shake the bucket again, and place it back behind the trash can. I notice that I have a small cut on my thumb. It’s from the sharp edge of the lid. It’s not the first time it's happened. I plan to start keeping track of this. I walk to the bathroom to get a plaster.
I open the cupboard below the sink and feel my way to a plastic bucket that is hidden behind the trash can. I take the bucket out the cupboard, and shake it to create room. I drop the lid into it. It clanks as it hits the other lids. I’m not sure how many are in it now.
I started saving them out of curiosity. My wife casually asked me one day at lunch to estimate how many tins of mackerel I think I eat in a year. The question stuck with me, and needled. So, I devised this method to keep track of my annual consumption.
I shake the bucket again, and place it back behind the trash can. I notice that I have a small cut on my thumb. It’s from the sharp edge of the lid. It’s not the first time it's happened. I plan to start keeping track of this. I walk to the bathroom to get a plaster.
23.8.26
Two Poems by Joseph Tate
Poetics
1.
Between here, as our Gunslinger says, and
formerly: asbestos gloved and took-en
by
"the mere rub-a-dub of the decasyll"
-“abon" as it were a—
Foot fault.
Love.
2.
(to remind myself)
“nope
heis wronf”
[signed in the plate] F. Chauveau (&Team),
inv. et fec.
3 & 5.
← Percent Sand —.
And: “The flowre hath α ι writ theron, which letters are of greef.”
In: “The flowre hath α ι writ theron, which letters are of greef.”
12A.
Brutality en pointe on a knuckle, a fingertip.
Tethered to the field.
12B.
Not a field.
The bony labyrinth / þe se of Occean, opening.
Lesson Plan(s)
after M and D
The manifest figure & its receding ground—
his rumble, she called it, of apples.
A flag of the most softest of soft fossils,
the symbolic order encausted;
the velvet flop will punctum any Studium™.
Tooth into the true-blue bitter of the lemon,
but gorge in the gleam of the pulp, trust its daylight.
This is a table, she said, fit for a storm.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)