Wednesday, November 21, 2012
where am i,
rather, is the question.
betwixt for sure
and somewhat between.
in the between
i did go to the so called
meta monumental garage sale at MoMA
about which the less said
in these parts
lest we discuss the emperor,
and his lack of clothing
or question the legitimacy
of performance art.
you can read more here if you must, or here
when i returned home
after the electricity & water were restored
i had an unrelated-to-the-storm
steam leak in the wall between my
bathroom & kitchen
necessitating the tearing apart of the kitchen,
and the wall
and reassembling of its pieces which,
for some reason didn't quite fit where they once were...
how is that?
and the sloppy refurbishing
of the bathroom ceiling
daily visits to my mom
at rehab lo these four weeks.
good news/bad news on that:
the good news is that the facility is two blocks from my apartment.
the bad news is that (let's all say it together)
the facility is two blocks from my apartment.
she's meant to be
discharged on nov. 30
with a large question mark after the
in my head.
home health aides for certain,
assisted living perhaps...
being the only child never sucked so much.
Friday, November 2, 2012
torrents of words trying to make sense of so much darkness so much wet.
after two nights of vivid dark & silence punctuated by the crackle of battery powered radio voices, two nights of diminishing water I chose to leave the dead zone, cross the border into light at 26th.
buses ran but didn't stop, full of those from deeper in the dark than I.
refugees bound north gather at bus stops like Hitchcock crows, two, then four, seven, twelve then four and twenty.
finally a ride in a livery cab not playing fast and loose with fares.
fifteen bucks from soho to 66th in ridiculous traffic, even crammed in with four others going north was less than the meter would have read.
so here i lie, comfortable and bathed, fed and plugged in, charged and observing online and televised, the singular womb of downtown.
shall i say I almost miss it? the adventure of it. but only enough to have returned yesterday, briefly, for warmer clothing, to toss what had defrosted and to hike once more up and down ten flights of stairs.
tomorrow, they tell us, we'll get the power back. but new yorkers never really lose power. we just convert it to other forms of energy.