Posts made in December, 2013

My Wobbly Bicycle, 55

Posted by on Dec 25, 2013 in Archive | 17 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 55

Christmas day, snow falling feathery, heaped. Deeply comforting. No sharp corners. It’s stunningly beautiful and one of the reasons we live here. If I could put my skis on or even go snowshoeing, that would be nice, but there’s this hip pain . . . . I did shovel a little, shame on me. Jerry’s recuperating from his back surgery, so we’re not going anywhere for a while. I love stopping. I love that in general, having an excuse to hibernate. I love that about poems, the way they stop. I love the lyric impulse.  When there’s stopping, things burst their seams. We have no family here....

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 54

Posted by on Dec 18, 2013 in Archive | 34 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 54

Tonight I brought dinner to Jerry at the rehab place where he’s staying (Do you have any IDEA how badly some of our elders are fed in these places?). We watched an episode of HGTV (yes), and I cried when the man with five children whose wife had died sold his house so he could send the children to college. Trap # 1: the word depression. It only confirms itself. At the moment, okay, instead I’ll say the atmosphere around me is blue-black, and seems like a bass cello; no, I’d say an oboe, except that I’d see Sonia the duck in Peter and the Wolf.  So like me, smiling at the duck while...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 53

Posted by on Dec 11, 2013 in Archive | 7 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 53

 “Many years later I understood that because of the privations and the poverty of their lives, Russians in general liked to entertain themselves with misery: they played with it like children, and they were rarely ashamed to be wretched.” That’s from Maksim Gorky’s Childhood, that has just come out in a new translation. This is from the end of Chapter X.  He goes on: “In the endless tedium of daily life, grief becomes a holiday; a fire’s an entertaining show. On a blank face, even a scratch is a beauty mark.” Gorky’s childhood was full of yelling, abandonment, drunkenness,...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 52

Posted by on Dec 4, 2013 in Archive | 12 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 52

This is the 52nd Wobbly Bicycle.  One year of Wobblies.  On the week a year ago that I decided to write about my cancer diagnosis, I gave the post that name, and kept using it. I’d thought to stop it after a year, and then I thought, well, when are we ever NOT wobbly bicycles? And certainly after a serious diagnosis,  one is evermore aware of the beauty of flying along in perfect balance.  Balance contains tentativeness, a little to this side, a little to the other.  Nothing stable. Jerry and I are in Ann Arbor, at the University of Michigan Hospital, where he just had back surgery....

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