Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Peanuts. A throb of peanuts.

The next time
"crabmeat" across your eyes*

Just heard today, poet Barbara Guest died on February 15. Coincidentally, right around that time I pulled her collection Moscow Mansions (1973) out of a box & promoted it to the bathroom. It's poetry that makes me want to write poems. Which is why I kept her book in that particular box. So maybe I did hear something. *from "Shifting the Iris" by B.G.

Handyman here today fixing problems the Housing Authority inspector found. A window by fire escape nailed shut. I knew that. No adjustment knobs on the radiators. The knobs are on but I'll still need a pipe wrench to turn them. He also cleared the cloggy bathtub drain. The pipes in my former residence clogged between floors & the washing machine water in the basement would somehow back up into my kitchen sink & a couple times overflowed it. One place I lived had that problem but with raw sewage. They were not slum buildings. The handyman decided to fix the sticky front door. Except I liked it sticky. It was an extra level of security. In fixing it, he pulled the hingeplate loose & the whole door nearly fell down. So he had to fix that. Now it closes smoothly & feels like anyone can pry it open with a screwdriver.

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"If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be." Thomas Jefferson

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