Weekly Edition #3
Prayer for an Unremarkable Day by Matthew Olzmann I’d like a day where all the buildings remain intact.
Let the Hydra remain asleep beneath the surface.
Let the tornado be befuddled, yawn,
go back to bed. No floods. No lightning strikes.
No movie theaters where a man walks
in with a terrible idea hidden in his coat.
Forgive me, for I have longed
for special effects, glory. Flashbulbs and moon landings.
Not anymore. Give me something ordinary, a day
that doesn’t swerve into the wrong lane.
Give me commercials for hand soap,
safety goggles, Lipton tea.
In 499 B.C., back on the shores of Miletus,
Histiaeus tattooed instructions
to the shaved head of his favorite slave.
When the hair grew back, the message was sent
to a general, who took a razor to the slave,
saw the command, and began torching
the countryside, killing the weak. Always,
this is how bad news arrives.
I thought I could protect people.
Today: my brother buys a house on a fault line in California,
and my parents—like everyone else—
grow one year older, one year at a time.
But that happens faster now.
I’m not sure how it’s possible, but already
one can see fissures in both
the pavement and the sky,
how the trees, branded by the storm,
lean until their roots are loosed from the land.
Let the news be boring. Let the roof repel the rain.
Let the car start on the first or second try.
Art by Carson Ellis
Other poems I enjoyed reading this week: (Links attached for the full poem)
"I let the darkening room
drink up the evening, till
rest, or the new rain
lightly roused you awake.
I asked if you heard the rain in your dream
and half dreaming still you only said, I love you."
"Until the pain turns into answers
and all the masters become askers
And all the victims again doers
And all the sources break in light.
The child goes alive, asking his questions."
-The Return by Muriel Rukeyser
"And may it happen on a day
when you are singing with friends,
laughing at a joke, dancing
in your living room.
May it come to you before
you know it and you’ll find
yourself flying, a balloon
cut loose, taking one last glance
at this fond world that you have loved."
-Drop Dead by Tamara Madison
"When they finished burying me, what was left of me
sent up a demand like a hand blooming in the fresh dirt:
When I’m back, I want a body like a slash of lightning.
If they heard me, I couldn’t hear their answers.
But silence has never stopped me from praying."
-A Memory by Saeed Jones
“Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!"
-Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me By Mary Oliver
Recommended Listening:
Good Day Sunshine by Roy Redmond
Dave Matthews: NPR Music Tiny Desk Concert Bottom of the World by Emily Haines & The Soft Skeleton Open Ocean: 10 Hours of Relaxing Oceanscapes
Links of the Week:
Found: 3 Poisonous Books in a University Library
Monumental Keith Haring Mural Uncovered in Amsterdam After Being Hidden for 30 Years
The Red Cat & Other Stories — Ritesh Uttamchandani
(I have a new project I invite you all to participate in. It involves creating an online archive of poetry being recited across languages. Please record yourself reciting a poem you love or have written or simply love the sound of and mail it to me at thealiporepost@gmail.com with the Subject 'Poetry Archive'. I'm going to start a Soundcloud page and start uploading them there. Who knows where this goes from there...
Thank you! :) I can't wait to hear you recite.)