Ought

Every day is Birdy on my mind, Skinny Love. The rains come in patches of mist. Purple hood up. It's the time of three paper ghosts on my front door. Squash in the oven Sunday after church. Beauty in the day, whip brisk by night. Take the train down south to the blufftop. Run to the old house, wood porch, Mississippi river boat. Murder stories and that golden hour on the shoe box casino. New season of American Horror Story, and this time maybe Ryan Murphy won't ruin the kit 'n' kaboodle. It's everyone's birthday. It's audition season. No, it's audition town. In any season. Fire up the Keurig.

Sullen load is full, so slow on the spit.

Scale

"Something changed then. I saw my life in scale: it was just my life. It was not momentous, and only now did I recognize that it had once seemed so to me; that was while _________ was watching. I saw myself the way I'd seen the cleaning women in the building across the street. I was just one person in one window. Nobody was watching, except me."

The Mississippi. April 2011.

Ol' Man River

The Mississippi at sunset, 2011

The musical Showboat: So. Flippin. Adored. (By moi.) In third grade, I knew every single line to every single song thanks to a cassette tape I mailed away for right after seeing it downtown. (It is so crazy how much technology has changed in fifteen years.)

I would re-enact the entire show by playing every character. During "Ol' Man River" I sat in a little chair with a knife and piece of scrap wood, pretending to widdle while dropping my voice two octaves. I'd furrow my brow, chip away at the wooden block angrily and sing

Color folks work on the Mississippi, color folks work while the while folks play,
Pullin' dose boats from de dawn 'til sunset, gettin' no rest 'til de judgement day.

and at the end I would throw the little block down and stand from the chair and belt

But ol' man riiiiiiiiiii-ver! He JUS KEEPS RO-LLIN AAAAAAAAAAA LOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!