Mo Rage: Autumn

Sunday, October 29, 2017

Entertainment Overnight -- Autumn

"Autumn sunshine all magnificent

and shining through...

I look at the side of your face as the sunlight comes

Streaming through the window in the autumn sunshine

And all the time going to Coney Island I'm thinking,

Wouldn't it be great if it was like this all the time?"

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Kids Today.... Huh

Kids today

They have it so easy.

Why, when I was a boy, we had to reach ALL THE WAY TO THE RADIO DIAL in the car, to turn up the volume or change a station. None of this fancy shmancy pushing a button on the steering wheel to turn it up or change the station.

And putting the window down?? Fuggedaboudit! We had to ROLL IT UP OR DOWN. None of this pushing a button to raise or lower it.

And clocks!

When WE switched to Daylight Savings Time, we HAD TO GO AROUND TO EACH AND EVERY CLOCK IN THE HOUSE and change the time. None of this automatically having the time change for you on these cell phones and computers.

I tell ya.

Kids today have it easy.

We get no respect.

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

September Is

September Is

BY MARY JO BANG

September is work to the center
Of arguments and controversies.
Prejudgments and incomprehensions.
What will I love if not that
That was enigma?
The years of infancy, Memory says,
And there we are, with the demon
Of the art of living
Traced on the glass of some window.

In the beauty of the night of May,
Clear of moon, to the lume of a candle
There was a design like the profile
Of a landscape almost abandoned. Gone
But not gone yet. It's fascinating,
These mysterious uncovered feelings.
Enigma of an afternoon of autumn, the picture
Of which is a composition
Of the eye of my mind. Every hour

That I watch this picture
I see again still that moment.
Nevertheless the moment is an enigma
For me, in how much is inexplicable.
The physical things hide in the architecture
Of the event. The enigma of a mock-up,
Of a shadow, the spectral and eternal aspect
Of the moment. Praises to you for being
One great box of surprise,

Your head the scene of a wonderful theater
Of the most tender gray of the fog
That joins the sky to the earth.
A tangling of truth and memory,
Mythology and iconography,
I watch with the eye
Of the mind the city that accommodates
That one beautiful day that is now infinite.
It deepens. It begins. The cyclical method.

Memory is deeply not alive; it's a mock-up
And this renders it hateful. Yet, it is not a fiction,
Is a truth, indeed a sad and monstrous truth.
I was assigned to you, together we were
A beautiful and melancholic picture.
This last picture is the realization
Of the overwhelming moment
In which the acute eye perceives you as a now
That is over. A now that is fixed
In the swept past.

Mary Jo Bang, "September Is" from Elegy. Copyright © 2007 by Mary Jo Bang. Reprinted by permission of Graywolf Press.