Friday, February 06, 2015

Eat the Sky, Drink the Ocean: Event

Come see me in the real life, talking about this book.
‘You know that phrase, making memories?’ Lyss asks. ‘Well, if I was going to make a memory. I’d knit it.’
‘It depends on the memory,’ I say. Some memories are still and certain; some are as alive and as impossible to catch in your hands as water.
‘It depends,’ says Jessame, ‘whether you want to remember or forget.’‘I’d draw on a blackboard. The most amazing, vivid, beautiful picture, my whole life in one big swirl,’ says Bonnie. ‘Chalk dust flying everywhere.’Lyss smiles.‘Then I’d rub it all out again,’ Bonnie says. We are all quiet for a minute. She asks, ‘What do you think will happen to them, my memories? I mean, what a waste. Don’t you think? What’s the point of them?’Jessame walks out of the room. Sometimes it gets too much. Sometimes one of us just can’t handle it, but we never break down in front of Bonnie.‘I’d knit it,’ Lyss says again. ‘I’d knit the whole history of human memory. And if I made a mistake. I wouldn’t frog it. I’d just keep knitting. I’d make the knots and holes part of the fabric.’
Jessame comes back, pink around the rims of her eyes. She clinches Bonnie in a fierce hug and says, ‘Memories are old news, babe. Over and done with. Who cares? You can’t hug a memory.’‘You okay?’ Bonnie whispers to Jessame and the question kills me. Jessame holds her and holds her.‘What colour?’ I ask Lyss.‘Black,’ she says, knitting. ‘With silver sparkles. Stretching out forever, like a night sky.’‘I’d wear that,’ I say. ‘I’d totally wear that.’
From What A Stone Can't Feel

Avery wakes up the moon

Avery wakes up the moon

says, 'I'm not scared'

The moon is old and kind

I should write a poem about it

Thursday, February 05, 2015

the cake the cake

Don't open the oven
          or the cake won't rise
Do not weep
          or the cake won't rise
Don't talk back
          or the cake won't rise
Don't be frightened
          or the cake won't rise
Shush, quick hide!
          or the cake won't rise
Cover your eyes.
          the cake. the cake.

Wednesday, February 04, 2015

Day 2 and 3

lights on
in each little house
the houses on the hill
each one represents an intention:
a cup of tea
a late meal
one more chapter, one last
page, one more show,
a walk across the room
to place the thing upon
the shelf          oh–
all the little houses
the lights on the hill

   a hidden world
   a personal sense of order
   entering the symbolic
   Who translates wonderland?

Sunday, February 01, 2015

Be awake

And if you can't sleep
Be awake.
Be the most awake you've ever been.
And if you hear the sound
Of a very old wing
Dragging across the floor
Don't be afraid, child.
Don't be afraid.