When Texas gets rain it changes everything. Our clay soil absorbs nothing and our burgeoning corn fields become rice paddies, streaked with light. It is amazing how water reflects the sky. I am aware that this is a commonly known fact, but I am so struck by it on days like today, when the sky is gray and limiting, and yet it is still brighter than the rain soaked ground. Brilliant, silver flashes catching my eye, enlivening my life.
I watched some red wigglers get washed out of the grass, to pool on the side walk. I stopped and scooped handfuls of worms up of the concrete and flung them in the grass. Handful after handful. I was yelled at for being weird.
I've been feeling pretty crappy these days. It is getting harder and harder to live the lively life I have set up for myself. I write poetry when I'm tired like this. It is hilariously maudlin. I write it down and keep it safe because poetry is supposed to be maudlin and maybe someone will pay me for it someday.
I am currently cramming as much information about the metabolic pathways into my head as is possible. I have until Monday to do this.
I am cold. Isn't that wonderful?
Here. Some poem:
I have often wanted to be reborn
as sea kelp. Placid and maternal,
vibrantly alive, slowly stretching
to encompass the world in my arms.
I love egrets
as insubstantial as filigree
beneath the edifice of cows.