3.2 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
56 degrees
An early evening run (or late afternoon, depending on when you think the afternoon ends and the evening begins). Really helped my mood and energy level. Wonderful to get some fresh air and move around. I’ve always been restless, needing to move, starting to pace if I stayed in the same spot too long, but now my body is revolting even more. Sitting in a chair for an hour or more, I get stiff and sore and my kneecap shifts slightly out of place. Boo. An aging body is no fun….Ran without headphones. Didn’t hear much, even though the river road was busy. Lots of cars commuting home. Runners, bikers, dogs and their humans. I felt overdressed in shorts and a jacket, but many walkers were wearing winter coats–one lady had on ear muffs. Ear muffs?! It was 56 degrees. By the end of my run, I had unzipped my jacket and had stripped down to a tank top. I noticed a lot of green, but not much of the river. Saw a bunch of people heading down to the road to the rowing club. A rowing class? I’ve been thinking that that might be fun to do. When I reached the turn around point at the greenway, I heard some loud bellowing just below the railroad trestle. What was going on? I didn’t stick around to find out.
What a poem:
Anti-Elegy/cameron awkward-rich
She was:
33, bullet.
35, bullet.
20, bullet.
25, stabbed to death & run over by a car.
66 blade.
22 bullet.
17 fist.
36 blade.
blade.
blade.
bullet.
bullet.
bullet
stone
found dead in a field
overdose
bullet
unknown
rope
stone
stone
bullet
oncoming traffic
his own good hands…
…
& it becomes a kind of music, doesn’t it?
Senseless litany, field of roses, blood red
upturned skirts. I open my mouth & here,
the pith of me. Here, a flock of names, a girl
spilling out onto the street.
…
The trouble with elegy
is that it asks the dead
to live, it calls them back.
& who am I to say rise?
Walk again among those
who could not bear
the sight of you? Your body.
Your one good dress.
Today, someone will walk into the night
& then become it. Someone’s heart
will crowd with beloved ghosts
& who am I to say, dance
with me here a little longer? Never mind
the bloodshed darling, never mind.
Never mind.
…
Once, a man said mine
& a woman became an empty room.
Once, a man said mine
& the ocean split & the endless passage.
Once, a man said mine
& there’s a genocide –
how strange. To make the world
with language. To wield desire
as a weapon. To watch one nation burn
& another rise up at your feet.
Once, a girl looked in the mirror
& called herself, said my name is
said I am / I am & a man said
mine / mine / mine
…
I have so many questions:
Who are
What does
Why
How does it feel to
I’m sorry, I just think
I
And, define
I’m sorry
Your anger
You’re afraid of
Can fear be
Define
knife
Define
Fear is
Please
Forgive
me
Wow. This whole poem, and especially these lines: the trouble with elegy/is that it asks the dead/to live, it calls them back./who am I to say rise?