the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
last kind word blues... ~ January 23, 2004 - 4:08 p.m. winter in milwaukee is snow and ice and biting wind, a shifting landscape of pain and challenge. winter in milwaukee is frozen nosehairs as I tromp the two and a half blocks to the bus. I like this walk better than the university-bounded one I made from my folks' house. I walk through my quiet neighborhood of sweetly aging victorians and cream city brick, floating on a cushion of snow and quiet. even the cars crunching softly by in the newfalling powder are sweet and gentle sounding, slow as doe-eyed plainsbeasts on a gentle summer's day. winter in milwaukee is dry and tight. is the skin peeling from my face, is the bleeding cracks in my poor reptilian knuckles. is the scabrous feel of chapped lips chafing. winter in milwaukee is hard. winter in milwaukee is guy forsyth and christina mars doing summertime from the boombox on top of the bookshelf. is guy doing last kind word blues as I try to corrall the chaos demons that have been dancing in my room. is me dreaming about summertime, and guy, and fire. winter in milwaukee is my sister and I, slowly and painfully untangling the knot rooted so deeply in both our lives that its extraction feels like losing a limb that never worked right, a vital but toxic organ. winter in milwaukee is stan smith on the clarinet, playing as though not even kidney failure could stop him from walking down a mountain on a sunny afternoon, just because it's a beautiful day and the mountain is there. winter in milwaukee is the couch by the window where I curl, catlike, in the blow of warm air from the register. winter in milwaukee is history, and challenge, and hard, hard work. winter in milwaukee is a thing worth doing. an only-way-around-is-through thing. winter in milwaukee is hot baths by candlelight and guitar chords dancing from jesse's door. is singing into the night with a roomful of warm eyes. is throwing three yahtzees before bedtime. all of this, and more. and less. and deeper and harder and stranger still.
(((rings))) |