Asifa 1

Asifa died in January
it was April when I learned
it is always already too late

We walk alone to the river
to the horse, to our homes
our thoughts catching

on branches of doubt
of light, rupture our
cruel, fool-ish world

Justice for Asifa

I feel a murderous rage coming on. I can't get the story of this child's face out of my head.

My dad was fond of the radical Tamizh poet Bharathiyaar who claimed, “Thani oruvanukku unavillai enil jagathinai azhithiduvom” (If even just one person does not have sustenance, let's burn down the whole world). 

And that's how I'm feeling today. No one deserves to be happy, no one deserves to live. Let's just nuke the planet and be done with this. 

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Bits and Bobs

Last class for this academic year, and our class went downtown to the new frozen custard place. I like joking that it's the closest thing we have to a Sri Lankan restaurant in Alma because its name is Serendipity.

On our way back we bumped into the sweetest, cutest, eight-week old puppy. His name is Yogi. LOOK AT THAT FACE! JUST LOOK! Yogi is a very good boy and trots along happily except when he's turning around to look for all the new friends who give him pets.

Full admission: I saw Yogi for the first time yesterday when I was turning into the parking lot at school, and I totally rolled down my window and screamed, "so cute, SO CUTE!!" I guess I'm practically a TLC song now.

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Sweet Meets

'Someone' stopped by my office and claimed that they weren't at all homesick, but lingered for over an hour to just talk, requested a bunch of food from home, told me he missed us ("Not all the time, okay? Just when we're all texting on family chat and stuff"), and even let me take his picture. I'm glad he's not homesick, but am so happy from getting some time with him.

I may have once wished that he'd choose head hair or face hair, but this groomed beard and tiny bun look really nice on him... in a hipster Chewie kind of way.

As he was leaving the English bay, I bumped into Sophfronia Scott who'd come to read for us last term, and whom I'd kept in touch with (via FB mostly). Turns out that she was on her way to a lit festival in Grand Rapids, and stopped over to see us. In an odd way, it feels like we've shared thoughts for a long, long time--it was lovely to see her again, and hang out at the coffeeshop for a while.

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What?!?

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A Monday

This raw and heartbreaking article. I started reading it in the school pickup line--anxious and breathless after the first paragraph.

That poor child. His poor family. The poor women who were gaslighted. But mostly, and over and over... that poor, poor child. In a way, the skeleton of dysfunction was visible for so long--the delayed second book, the frenzied relationships--and yet, this is a necessary speaking up, a necessary fleshing out... even from three decades away.

I was nice to Nu. But Big A knew enough to leave me alone after I growled at him a couple of times. Not like it's his fault--and he's the one who introduced me to Drown all those years ago--but he's used to my anti-patriarchy rages. And I got hugs and talking later. But god, this article. Children deserve so much better.

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Here Comes the Sun

This was less than a week ago, 

when everyone was mocking me 

"Sucker's Spring" + "Fake Spring."

But I feel that we're really and truly 

on our way to bliss now... 

Huckie knows how I feel:

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