#67 - mundane monday
Art by Leon Leenhoff
For the Love of Avocados by Diane Lockward
I sent him from home hardly more than a child.
Years later, he came back loving avocados.
In the distant kitchen where he'd flipped burgers
and tossed salads, he'd mastered how to prepare
the pear-shaped fruit. He took a knife and plied
his way into the thick skin with a bravado
and gentleness I'd never seen in him. He nudged
the halves apart, grabbed a teaspoon and carefully
eased out the heart, holding it as if it were fragile.
He took one half, then the other of the armadillo-
hided fruit and slid his spoon where flesh edged
against skin, working it under and around, sparing
the edible pulp. An artist working at an easel,
he filled the center holes with chopped tomatoes.
The broken pieces, made whole again, merged
into two reconstructed hearts, a delicate and rare
surgery. My boy who'd gone away angry and wild
had somehow learned how to unclose
what had once been shut tight, how to urge
out the stony heart and handle it with care.
Beneath the rind he'd grown as tender and mild
as that avocado, its rubies nestled in peridot,
our forks slipping into the buttery texture
of unfamiliar joy, two halves of what we shared.
Other poems I enjoyed reading:
"The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on." -Fog by Carl Sandburg
"Salvador Dali wore one orange
sock and a white one on days
he went to eat breakfast in cafes.
On days he stared at the wall,
he did not wear socks." -from The Walls by Ray Gonzalez
"How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart;
the sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right."
-Everything Is Going To Be Alright by Derek Mahon
"He writes his awkward note,
trying to dispense with grace
some well-worn clutter easily
discarded in another generation.
But what he wishes to bequeath
are items never owned: a Chopin
etude wafting from his wife’s piano on the scent of morning coffee" -from Personal Effects by Raymond Burns
"It is a dark fall day.
The earth is slightly damp with rain.
I hear a jay.
The cry is blue.
I have found you in the story again.
Is there another word for ‘‘divine’’?
I need a song that will keep sky open in my mind.
If I think behind me, I might break.
If I think forward, I lose now.
Forever will be a day like this
Strung perfectly on the necklace of days.
Slightly overcast
Yellow leaves
Your jacket hanging in the hallway
Next to mine." -Fall Song by Joy Harjo
Recommended Listening:
Who Knows Where the Time Goes - Fairport Convention
Little Bit of Rain - Fred Neil
Last I Heard (…He Was Circling The Drain) - Thom Yorke (the video is composed of more than 3000 hand-illustrated frames!) Westlin' Winds - Yorkston/Thorne/Khan Walking All Day - Graham Coxon Again and Again - The Iguanas (Read more about Iggy Pop's high school band here.)
Links of the Week:
An Ode to Fall (I curated a selection of poems + photographs on fall)
Maestro: Forest Creatures Gather Together to Perform a Moonlit Rendition of an Opera + Garden Party by the same creator
How Banksy Authenticates His Work
The World According to Phoebe Waller-Bridge
Instagram Loving:
Interview: Benjamin Bauchau
It is my honour to share my interview with the brilliant artist Benjamin Bauchau. It's quite a heavy but insightful interview on anxiety and art, so I recommend reading it.
I shared some thoughts on how to stay mindful on the Internet and in this piece by Gargi Ranade for SOUP alongside some other women doing amazing things in the virtual space.
Thank you for reading. Have a good week!
-Rohini