5 miles
ford loop
38 degrees
Ran with Scott on the ford loop. Today I talked about the US Olympic Marathon Trials, which I watched this morning. A runner from Minnesota, Dakotah Lindwurm, got third. Scott talked about the music project he worked on before the run — a little jam with his new keyboard and bass. We also mentioned slippery mud, tight shins (Scott), cramped toes (me), running up the Summit hill during the marathon, and mistaking a fire hydrant (Scott) and a black fence (me) for people. I was surprised that there weren’t more people out running — it’s not that cold and the paths are clear. Maybe it was the time of day — 12:30?
10 Things
- an empty bench on the bluff
- a wide (r than I remembered) expanse of grass between the path and the edge
- the crack trail
- some strange decorations on the fence in front of the church — yarn? paper chains?
- a car blasting music at an overlook parking lot — the only lyric I remember was senorita
- a wide open view of the river and the other side
- a double lamp post on the ford bridge — one light was on, the other was not
- the dead-leafed branch that’s been pushed up agains the other side of the double bridge for months — still there with all of its dead leaves
- no poem on the poetry window — have they stopped doing it? was it just for the pandemic?
- ice on river, near the east shore, one chunk almost the shape of a right triangle
Searching “peripheral” on the Poetry Foundation site, I found this interesting blurb:
Poet Tan Lin edited issue 6 of EOAGH, for which he invited contributors to submit a piece of “peripheral” writing – that is, a text that doesn’t directly supply the material or inspiration for the authors’ work, but is in some tangential, peripheral, or ambient way, related.
blurb
I would like to play around with this idea of the peripheral text in my own writing. What are the peripheral texts, ideas, practices that contribute to my poems, especially my Haunts poems?