Knock-Knock

As she dawdled over breakfast (as my kids do err'yday)

she told me that when I had knocked on her window 

to let her know "snooze" time was over

and that she needed to *wake up now*

the knocking had become a part of her dream.

(Someone was showing her a script 

that had the words: "No, No, No"

And as they read it, they thumped the desk.)

P.S.

This photo is apropos of not much

but I keep it on my desktop

and it makes me smile.

_

Royal Blood

Story 1

After the parade with the other homecoming "court" families, I took the rained-on grandparents and younger sibs home to dry off, while Big A went to his night shift. So... At was all by himself when he was "coronated" as homecoming king. The video his teacher posted of the "coronation" makes me sad--At's standing all alone while all the other kids have at least one family member there. 

Story 2

I've been getting out of puppy poop-picking up and other gross family chores by jokingly claiming that I have royal blood via the padma vellama Dorakanti heritage. I don't believe in all that B.S., obviously, and I was merely being facetious. But I didn't realize how seriously the youngest human in the family was taking it until the day A asked Nu to do her "peasant" chores and she rounded on him savagely and lashed out: "Yeah, Dad! I get it from *you*." This happened at least a year ago, but we're still laughing every time we quote it.

And that's it. Two stories connected tenuously by the theme of royal blood/me being awful.

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New House; Same Folks

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Yeezy love

The pink Polo shirt is a nice literary reference :).

A List

I hear you
empty hands,
open mouth,
at my back

I watch till all
the anger boils,
pops, peels, and
I have no choice

but to face you.
I fill my lungs
with screams,
devour the day.

_

New House

The trees tense like a tide

tunneling the sky's ocean

tree skin like coins peeling

from Lakshmi's lotus hand


Their roots keep buckling--

letters unpinning addresses

grow lichen hair, to honor

bodies/words not yet here

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The Ladies Finger

Don't know how I first came across it, but I love this blogzine--irreverent, honest, charming, and pathbreaking. It seems to be written and produced in India, but it's a great read for anyone with transnational feminist sensibilities.