New York

take it as proof

make it a prayer

memory 

around earth

beyond desire

learn its anarchy

discern distance

lost

in indecision

and questions

_

Meditation

I wait for the sun.
The first golden
sliver

A fingernail's
paring
of light

A coin that
scribbles
exchange

Glittering
the day
with

More than
one-sided
coherence

_

Sometimes...

one needs to nap *at* dinner

-

Snow Mail

Retrieving mail
from the mailbox 

apparently requires 

mucho teenage bravado 

and action-film acrobatics…

_

Golden

_

Guess Who's *at* Dinner

Huckleberry: I'm all done now. Thanks!

_

Double the Cute

I'm so done…

-

New Baby Madness

 Scout would like you to meet Huckleberry.

(He isn't sure we ought to keep her though.)

And here are all four kids…

(Nu is Huckleberry's special big sister

--and raising Huckleberry is clearly tiring work.)

-

Cue

Filling hands decorously
with design
undone by words so porous
they're refined

Here you are, your hands
wide open
their words worried, wrong
so often

_

By the light of the moon...

The moon,

The moon,

They danced by the light of the moon.
(In Ann Arbor)

_

Three Valentines...

_

Lens

an unused diary
ephemera

an empty page
asking

risen yeasty
answering

bruiting
newborn quiet

_

Tense

The river is
then has been
erased by snow

The snow was
plaint and now is
obdurate

spreads diamantine
skirts upon ground.
And no one

knows--nonsense
or treasure or
madness

_

Amends

this mouth is madness
madness

is eaten by eyes
rent by hands
rent by words
that are noise

I fold it like a kite
fly it closer to my sky

_

Impertinence

Our pronouns are wrong
unfashionable
collective

Our tenderness grows oddly
strong, parking
in spaces

The best one was yesterday
a decade ago
the first

Everyday another escapade
ordinary, brighter
impertinent

The Horror

At just finished reading Conrad's Heart of Darkness and wants to watch Apocalypse Now.

Why? Because he heard that those were the cultural artifacts that inspired a video game he loves called Spec Ops. It appears to be a first-person-shooter game, but At assures me there are more peaceful ways to play the game. We had a long car-conversation once about "it teaches that killing people is wrong" (At) and "you didn't already know killing people is wrong?" (me).

Whatever. I've assigned the Conrad to college students multiple times to complaints of "too hard to read." So currently, I'm a proud mama to a 14-year-old (less-than-stellar report card notwithstanding).

_

White-out-side

_

Traffic Controller (Dinner Prep Time)

Rapt. Playing "Rush Hour."

This set is almost ten years old,

and initially used to be At's.

(The Ya-Yas gave it to him.)

Terrifying Beauty

Surprise Portrait

This showed up in my message folder...

There usually aren't (m)any pictures of us

Another thing I really like is how we're  

flanked by a portrait of Big A as a kid…


_

A Moody Goddess Kind of Day...

and crowded too.

In the Compost

Corpses wait
orange peel
egg shells
sliver of skin
hothouse scraps

Leavings
iced over
in furrows
hatch plans,
sharpening

The first
green spear
of spring,
terrifying
with constancy

_

Snow Secret

The snow like a balm
blanketing, quieting
wanting

An incomplete dragon
intermittent, young
uncertain

Raising itself as if
on a leash
to elegy


_______________
In memory of S.M. (1996-2014)
[From a memory of the beginning of Silas Marner.]


_

When Father-in-Law Gives You Peppers...

Make stuffed peppers…

_

"Two Beds, One Fight!"

Game developer: Nu

_

All I remember from the Road Trip...

Dog fight!

_

Puppy's First Hotel Stay

Aloft Hotels, Chicago

_

In the Middle of the Night...

All three of them…

_

All I remember from Christmas...

YSO

_

Some Days Begin Well...

_

Nom!

ButterCheese&Blueberry Fly

(Created by Ms. Nu)


_

"Summarizing"

On the way back from At's band concert we're discussing movies we'd like to watch over the Holiday break and Big A, newly 40, claims that Saige Paints the Sky, The American Girl Movie, is his pick.

It's not. He's doing it to make At and me giggle.

But Nu watched it twice and loves it.

So she decides to tell us the story.

+
+
+
+

Five minutes later; she finishes.

And then makes everyone in the car giggle again when she announces that--sadly, she had to leave out many details.

It can't be easy being the youngest.

_

Four Hours Before Newtown

Camille Dodero's compassionate account of a "suspected school shooter" What Kind of Monster Wants to Shoot Up His School.

(Made me miss doing CASA work.)

_

It's been a Year...

There hasn't been a single day I haven't thought about those kids, those teachers, those parents, those kids.

A list of 194 children who've died since then in Mother Jones.

And a list of mass shootings in 2013 on Reddit.

It has to get better in 2014.


-

Bathtime

Scout's gotten so big

At can barely carry him.

(So…  my Nu offered 

to carry both her brothers.)

Cliches, Glitches*

Sometimes…

the dog…

does eat homework…


* English is weird. In any other language, words that look like that would rhyme .
_

New Nu Notes

1.      [While helping me make dinner]
My best friend is Michael. His name's also Letrell. He said that his favorite color is pink. He said sometimes people laugh when he says that. He said I could laugh too if I wanted to. But I didn't. I think he's lucky to have a strong friend like me. I'm going to eat a good dinner so I can always protect him. (Michael is half the size of Nu.)


2.      [When I walked through the door; sitting me down in the living room]
Mama, if you're not there, I'm not there. [?] I want you to eat whole meals, [?] sleep well, and get lots of treats so you'll be happy and healthy.


3.       [Dinner with grandparents. At had just admitted that at a "Power of the Pen" sleepover at school, he had slept right through a fire alarm. Most of us at the table laughed at him. Fresh from a fire drill at school, Nu clutched her brother's arm tightly, then this in a voice wobbly with tears.]
Guys, [Mom and Dad] I know I said I'd live with you forever, but I'm going to live with Nana forever. He needs me to help him wake up if the fire alarm goes off.


4.     [Communing with Scout...]

Look: I'm a "huppy" (half human; half puppy).

_

The Last 12 Hours

Groggy from a long chat that ended after 2:00 a.m. A chat that started with Big A awake and frustrated at being awake since he has to work till at least midnight today.

A rendition of "Big Dogs Don't Cry" didn't help, so I started talking about Virginia Woolf and Martha Nussbaum. (What? It puts students to sleep?)

Meanwhile:

Trying not to think of how it was the anniversary of him smashing his wrist while skiing. 

Skirting the topic of why on earth does he have to start work at 7:00 a.m. doing stuff as part of an additional job he interviewed for in Feb and isn't being compensated for in any way. 

Finding out that fake yawns can't make your companions sleepy.

Thinking about Nu saying "people look at me weird"--which is worrying whether it's real or imagined. 

Finding out we were talking too loudly for Scout who sighed at us loudly and went to At's room for the rest of the night.

Then I woke up a little later because At was riffling through all his things because he couldn't remember where he put his inhaler and he had been reading about the 12-year-old in Canada who died at school without his inhaler before bed.

And students in and out all day, jittery with finals panic and juggling everything from cancer to toddlers.

_

Schooled

I was just browsing Shakespeare's Sister on a break and literally had my life interpreted for me.

In an article about high-heels, Melissa McEwan explains that for fat women, heels (which have been criticized by some feminists as a form of self harm) may seem a necessary defense:

Fat women have all kinds of narratives about sloppiness, laziness, dirtiness to overcome. Sometimes heels are a crucial part of looking "put together" in a way that sufficiently convinces people that we care about ourselves, that manages to counteract pervasive cultural narratives that fat people don't care about ourselves… I get treated completely differently at a $20 hair salon if I'm dressed up or dressed down. Two totally different experiences. I get treated differently at the doctor's office, and at the emergency room. I can't go to the ER in sweatpants, because I'll get shittier treatment. In an emergency, I have to worry if I am dressed up enough to prove that I deserve respect and care.

All round horrible. Points I completely empathize with without having experienced them myself. (Or so I think.)

And then the part that changes the way I count my life. Melissa McEwan continues:
I am speaking to my own experience here, but many women with other marginalized bodies have the same experience. Women of color, trans* women, women with disabilities, and other marginalized classes of women may strongly relate to the idea of having to be "put together" in order to be treated as human beings.
That would totally explain why after years of dressing in jeans and homespun tunics and putting a lot of thought into looking like I didn't care how I looked in India, I've become--after years of living in the West--consumed by fashion. Because looking like a vagabond* is cute only if people know that you're playing and know you're not really one.

*(as the nuns at my private school may have said)

_

Ain't it Grand(parents)!

_

The Kids Are Documenting My Lapses...

Turns out that when I promise 

to watch movies with them,

I end up falling asleep instead.

They have the pictures to prove it.

Realizing she'll have no one to boss around...

When big brother takes off for college.

(Big A assumes that the kids will be doctors. 

So far At--design; Nu--Art/Art teacher.

Even if Big A were really an Asian dad

--and not merely an Asian dad by proxy--

he couldn't be more disappointed.)

_

On the road together (5:00 a.m.)

It's always good to have a chubby-cheeked companion.


_

What she made for her teacher...

 Go and play!

(or--presumably--I'll spank you with a spatula?)

Hungry Games

Before we set off to Catching Fire with our 14-strong viewing party: Brunch!

 "Gale" (HA!) and Chickpea salad and President Snow's Rose Cupcakes

"Peeta" (Haha) chips and Katniss Hotness. We're so hilarious.

Take that, Goldieblox!

Read this article at Shakespeare's Sister if you want a respectful, comprehensive read about why Goldieblox is more of the same old in new pinkified packaging. The comments are wonderful too!

And in that spirit, here's something the kids 6 (F) and 14 (M) made this morning.

At (L); Nu (R)

_

Trying to get this done

with a mouse and many, many elephants...

_

Briefly

Skipping from fire to fear
the colors beyond mathematics

From innocence to indifference
telluric, ludic, dead like this


_

A Kind of Rhythm

Highrise
Skyscrapers thrust through my heart
hope rising floor
by floor


Freefall
Then an ocean, breaking every day
retreat, put myself
back together

_

Mixed Media/Metaphor

Life is a juggling act / Life is a blur

A Man's Job...

At work, hanging out with the kids.

(They're off from school because it's

the beginning of hunting season--seriously.)

Does Nu look like 

a(n) (in)famous historical character 

from Germany--or is that just me, Godwin-ing?

_

Après-Laundry

Hide from your siblings.

Knowing What to Say

Do you choke on the cold
let it cut you open

Do you use love
as a lasso

Romance experience
Experience romance

I build it
by taking it apart

smothered bruised
and seething like music

_

Prayer in the Storm

Today is
an avalanche

The night is
upset desert

packed light
snack light

Bring
morning

Sing
morning

by light
or not night

_

Improvising

My heart operates on battery.
Yes, you can read it two ways;
neither of them will make sense.

Somedays, you are my soul and
it's your ear I want to hug most.
(A testament--not much better.)

Although, your hands--do save me.
Sometimes their higher purpose is
to idly hold my tired, dripping face.

Many thousand feet above us, perhaps
stars dance ever slowly, unconcerned
their void filled with winking emoticons.


_

Lest I Forget

I don't speak to our dead everyday
even today, I'm just... just listening.
Listening for the way they whistle.

Mostly the dead never disappear
I can sweep up the dust and papers
and know they never appear either

Still the weight of their stare lingers
on my eyes, in smiles, the limit where
my breath slices my lungs like apples

And my freedom, this pulse I carry.
I close my eyes, every time the last
Holding in glances, instead of arms

_

I've been working like a dog...

and 

I'm beginning

 to pant like one 

too.

_

Mornings

Puppy and me at 4 a.m.

he yells at me if I move.

So I just sit here and work.

Cutest + toughest boss ever.

_

Location

Turning the stars with spatula arms
skies spill stars and mosquitoes

thunder like sprays of flowers
like dead deer, typewriters

hinting like a children's book
foretelling surprises, defeats.

Darkness is the little treat
lying in the womb

I wonder what it means
to share: I'm here

Yet know it means
something to you

in the slow interior
of your mood

Devout Puppies

_

Happy Deepavali!

May there be light, warmth, and love

while we try to get through 

to the bright side!

_

Home truths

Have been binge-watching Homeland over the past two days--but only because of a cold that ironically relieved me from having to obsess about writing and grading that needs to be done.

Four home truths of importance to no one but me:

1. Binge-watching is the only way A and I have ever watched the show. 
2. And almost as frequently we're falling asleep or talking and losing track. But we've never rewound any episode. Invariably, we're like "Eh--we'll figure it out in the recap of the next episode." 
3. Carrie's bipolarity almost makes it difficult to watch because it feels so intrusive--kinda of meta considering she's CIA and the stuff about the NSA and our private lives and all of that.
4. But if I'm being completely honest, the main reason I like the show is because it gives me a chance to hear A's moniker for the Brody character--"Ginger Bin Laden." It's not particularly clever, but to hear the ginger-haired A say it in his scoffingly supercilious tone makes me giggle like I'm in middle school every single time.

_

Boo! (Or, My Boos)

Posing (in order of height):

A little vampire, 

Louis from Left for Dead, 

and a guest--Glitterstim from Star Wars.

Not Posing:

all of the above + 

Scout as a medieval jouster's trusty steed.

(That puppy just loves his big brother.)

_

Safekeeping

Our paired vows
are ever air, unclear
          folded in English
          prickling with desire
shouting loud of love
candidates for fights
          we know no one wins
          entranced--not thinking at all.

But all day gather every thing
and thought, even ones tiny as almonds
          and bittersweet, for the hell of it
          to share after you've brushed
your teeth to shining at 3 a.m.
and our wishes surge huge
          flapping around us, fly us
          frail, beautiful with sleep.


_

On Nu's Lady Liberty

A asks me, 

"How can you still not want 

to be a U.S. citizen 

after seeing that picture?"

He says, 

"I want to be a poor, 

disheveled immigrant 

just so I can run to her."

_

Fear

Because of my insistence on
making monsters in the dark
they grow strong enough

to come for me in daylight

Their laughter running
bloody around the room
as I run around

chewing through ropes

that are all mine, mine.
Even light is useless
and the small blessings

bearing cacti like cake

I must survive
in wasting life
in the after life

_

Repentance

today's possibilities halve
carved by rain

cities are divided by winter
wondering, stoic

the grass hardens to ice
without answers

the crash--it is coming
ornate and faithless

won't stop until it explodes,
blooming like day


_

I wonder what he's thinking about

When he clambers up the sofa

to stand on his hind legs

with his front legs folded--

kinda leaning on his elbows--

with his "lovey" carefully
tucked under his arm

looking out of the window
across the water

watching the water rat 

 birds and the other dogs 

Happy Birthday Dad!

From the production titled,

"Visiting Dad at work to wish him a Happy Birthday:"

(Working Title: "Midnight Adventure")

Featuring: Nu on flowers,

At on baked goods, and

Scout with Balloon

_

In which I discover that I am a good Hindu girl after all...

I'm absent-mindedly humming along to the new mumbly masterpiece by Kings of Leon in the car.

And also: smiling.

At looks slightly horrified and asks me, "You know it's about suicide, right?"

What? Wait; you mean they're not talking about taking one in the temple... Oh.

_

As we recovered, there were some ... complications

_

Six is Magical...

Thanks to Grandma S for 

the bunny-popping-out-a-hat cake!

_