12/7/24

Today at school, The Tempest to sophomores and reading outloud Seniors' I Remember poems.

Swell night. gen at Ed's. Worked on F759, went super deep with it, so intoxicating. Then worked on songs, F755, Merry Christmas, Diamond Star by Alex Cory, You can be a poet by Noel Black. I added Truck Darling and Gerard Nerval to the mix. I added weird lines to it, hope it doesn't freak out Truck. "He liked to get his wieners all in a bun." 

Listened to Sofia play guitar for awhile, Christmas Carols,  while I looked at Lucia's pictures on her phone. 

Sofia and I walked down to Best Buy to fix a computer. Inflated battery! 

Then Lucia decided she wanted to watch a movie and told me I could pick anything after 2010. So we watched Grand Budapest Hotel. A girl on each shoulder. So good that movie. A top tenner for me. They fell asleep half way through. 

Tomorrow, Wicked. Then off to  a poetry thing with Tyler Burba. Will see Anne Waldman. Woo hoo!

11/7/24

Tonight playing Uno with Lucia, then reading her White Bird in bed. Going over to Quinn's nook  to  play classic greats, like Muddy Water, and For The Turnstiles, and Dirty Old Town, with Arthur, Lenny, Mike and Jamie. Every time like the most sophisticated wine. Way beyond that really. 

A day of teaching Patti Smith, and Villanelles,  and new Chaucer tales, and listening to kids memorize William Blake. Brilliant stuff.

Arthur asking me about the "pronunciation" of Baktib. 

Sofia going to the Xavier dance with Fynn. Teddy also there. Teddy coming home and playing Duke Ellington's Caravan with Quinn as a last song.  

I mean, really, there are so many great moments. One day is a bonanza feast. 

I didn't even  mention  all of the  food. The drinks. The books. The Prowling Bee blog. (I put up a new one, F754, Grief is a Mouse.)

I played a dozen songs by myself.  Deeply felt.

I watched the end of Disclaimer.  (Eh. But I did appreciate the twist. And Kevin Kline was wicked.)

Poems and music  and art galore. 

I gave away 5 shells. 

It was my Dad's 80th birthday. Happy birthday Dad! You're the greatest. 

5/24/24

Line from a dream this morning: "There glides into place/ a phenomenous race/ of pseudo breakers and Bee keepers"

Woke up at 3 am and wrote of the previous day:

The day as far a as it went. Heaven sent. Bob Moon is the way it ended. (Ed: Bob Dylan's birthday, full moon) The way it began was with yoga and pushups and gardenscapes. Then cheerios with apples and cinnamon and hugs all around. Then school where there was cake and crème brûlée gelato. I taught classes on black swan green by David Mitchell. It was fire. They did a meta essay on the difference between a secret that should go public vs one that should stay private. Meanwhile I caught up on my grading and after, more gelato. Then I came home and read the New Yorker and took a nap. I spent some time today working on next Emily Dickinson poem, F719. Every one is a thrill. Walk with Genevieve to take Beatrix home. Pizza in the park for Fridays in the park. Talk to Nancy and Paul. Read Nancy's 100 word story. Listen to Paul's amazing story about The Prisoner. He will stay in the castle! Then off to Schupback gardens where we sang many songs by The Beach Boys, and Jerry Jeff Walker and the Beatles and Neil Young, with Arthur and Lenny and Jamie and Quinn. Holy singing under the full Bob moon, while singing "It takes a lot to laugh, it takes a train to cry" at the very moment an LIRR train rolls by and blows it's whistle. So elevated. Gabe depressed, over text, over the state of the world. Played tennis with another Gabriel and won. Felt good on the court, healthy at 55. Alive happy to be. Music and poetry and teaching and novels and singing and friends and wife and daughters I love and parents still alive. In the zone. Allegra prone. Burnt pop corn smell as I try to sleep. But first this burst of memory. I love you.