Weekly Edition #41
Art by Bill Watterson
The Yukon Song by Bill Watterson
My tiger friend has got the sled,
And I have packed a snack.
We're all set for the trip ahead.
We're never coming back!
We're abandoning this life we've led!
So long, Mom and Pop!
We're sick of doing what you've said,
And now it's going to stop!
We're going where it snows all year,
Where life can have real meaning.
A place where we won't have to hear,
"Your room could stand some cleaning."
The Yukon is the place for us!
That's where we want to live.
Up there we'll get to yell and cuss,
And act real primitive.
We'll never have to go to school,
Forced into submission,
By monstrous crabby teachers who'll
Make us learn addition.
We'll never have to clean a plate
Of veggie glops and goos.
Messily we'll masticate
Using any fork we choose!
The timber wolves will be our friends.
We'll stay up late and howl,
At the moon, till nighttime ends,
Before going on the prowl.
Oh, what a life! We cannot wait,
To be in that arctic land,
Where we'll be masters of our fate,
And lead a life that's grand!
No more of parental rules!
We're heading for some snow!
Good riddance to those grown-up ghouls!
We're leaving! Yukon Ho!
Other poems I read this week:
Why Is It by John Foy
Why is it I keep these things,
this calendar, a pocket kind,
the pages filled with random jottings
that might have mattered at the time,
scribbled in and barely legible
but clear enough to understand
on the fly back then, now valuable
only to show again the plans
that used to have significance,
or the name of a girl in Carson City
who never called me back, or a list
from five years ago today,
a week before my mother died,
of some vegetables I had to buy.
Orchids are Sprouting From the Floorboards by Kaveh Akbar
Orchids are sprouting from the floorboards.
Orchids are gushing out from the faucets.
The cat mews orchids from his mouth.
His whiskers are also orchids.
The grass is sprouting orchids.
It is becoming mostly orchids.
The trees are filled with orchids.
The tire swing is twirling with orchids.
The sunlight on the wet cement is a white orchid.
The car tires leave a trail of orchids.
A bouquet of orchids lifts from its tailpipe.
Teenagers are texting each other pictures
of orchids on their phones, which are also orchids.
Old men in orchid pennyloafers
furiously trade orchids.
Mothers fill bottles with warm orchids
to feed their infants, who are orchids themselves.
Their coos are a kind of orchid.
The clouds are all orchids.
They are raining orchids.
The walls are all orchids,
the teapot is an orchid,
the blank easel is an orchid
and this cold is an orchid. Oh,
Lydia, we miss you terribly.
Time With You by Gary Soto
We’re thirteen, almost fourteen,
And so much in love
We want the years to pass—
Clouds roll at super speed, rains fall,
Flowers unfold and die at the snap
Of our fingers. I want to stuff sand
Through a fat hourglass,
And rip the pages from the calendar.
Let me blow candles from my cake.
Let my puppy stretch to full size.
When we turn eighteen,
Time will become a canoe on a still lake.
Hello I Must Be Going by David Hernandez
Really nice meeting you sorry
I have to hurry off there’s this thing
happening this thing I must do
you too yes dying is the thing
everyone is not talking about it
why ruin karaoke night why discolor
the air between you and the bartender
hello what can I get for you
it’s miraculous we’re here and then
the world is yanked from us and then
time dismantles our bodies to dust
okay um can I help the next customer
see it would be awkward
let’s not bring it up mum’s the word
come on now we’ve still got
some living to do pick up that trumpet
I’ve got mine already never mind
we can’t play any instruments
the point is to make a sound
any sound in this endless parade
shimmering toward silence.
Recommended Listening:
Sounds of Himeya - Jeevan Antony (This is the most special collection of music to dream to. A must listen for all!)
Hallelujah - Revisionist History Podcast
Hear Sylvia Plath Read 18 Poems From Her Final Collection, Ariel
Links of the Week:
Sign of the times: Mumbai's typographical treasures Alain de Botton’s Lovely Letter to Children About Why We Read
20 tools that will help you become a more effective freelancer
The Bangalore Farm-to-Table Guide (which I wrote)
