The
Visible Woman
Just Types
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov. 30, 2004 —
People see our house.
Spruced up for a fete.
We get the wows.
Best place they've seen yet.
We have entertainers and song.
Creative food and flowers.
Wine to bring things along.
But.
There are levels of the game.
To which we'd never aspire.
But all the same.
Someone always sees you as higher.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
29, 2004 —
Pets live and die.
By our hands.
We feed them, give them water.
Take them to the vet.
Voicing their complaints.
We mourn them.
But we are reasonable.
We want go bankrupt on their care.
Nor make them suffer just to be alive.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
28, 2004 —
Home.
The place where you know where all your stuff is.
Where you have paid for all the channels.
Where you have all your books, your newspapers.
Your coffee makers.
Your problems.
DALLAS, Texas, Nov.
27, 2004 —
Traditions lay the ground work.
Give you a place to start.
Knowing what to expect.
When the calendar turns to a certain time.
But they can hem you in.
Curtail your sense of adventure.
Sometimes it's better to think of something new.
And promise to do it over and over until it becomes the tradition.
DALLAS, Texas, Nov.
26, 2004 —
Games, puzzles, family jokes.
Feeding everyone leftovers and pie.
Traditions, constantly tweaked so they work.
As the children become the adults.
DALLAS, Texas, Nov.
25, 2004 —
New traditions.
And ancient ones.
Aware of the missing ones.
It's a necessity.
To have turkey.
Dressing.
See a kid's movie.
With no kids left.
DALLAS, Texas, Nov.
24, 2004 —
We gather.
All ages.
Differnt views.
Different lives.
We are relatives.
Different. But find our sameness.
On holidays.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
23, 2004 —
Things are a little strange.
Driving downtown.
A power failure in a house that is not having a party.
A tree down.
A desserted bar.
A friend leaving down.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
22, 2004 —
When it rains and won't seem to stop.
"It can't rain this hard for long!"
Splashing.
Soaking.
Leaking, dripping.
Some water leaks into the garage.
Even the Ecocrete has puddles which must mean total saturation under the
pavement.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
21, 2004 —
A vast
Wasteland
Expanded since sixty-one.
Wider.
Infinitely wider.
But no deeper.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
20, 2004 —
Gadgets.
Gear.
Technology.
Computers, phones, video this, MP3, digital, high def fun.
We are drowning in electronic hum drum.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
19, 2004 —
Advice.
Free to give.
Hard to take.
Is it patronizing?
What's at stake?
How much to assume?
Is this person so rich
That he can absorb the fallout
That I cannot?
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
18, 2004 —
The young have hopes.
And all that time.
They don't know the ropes.
They may not rhyme.
But their feelings are strong.
They have their plans.
They may be wrong.
But it's in their hands.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
17, 2004 —
Imagine that some time in the future.
You are some place else.
Carrying a bag of clothes and necessities.
Loose in the world.
Get a ticket and you are halfway there.
On your way to the place being a memory.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
16, 2004 —
Put it off now.
Because don't you see?
It could elicit a wow.
You could say whee!
If you finished it in your mind's eye.
Rather than here, where rules apply.
Besides you never know.
Putting it off, waiting until things are just so.
Might make the need just disappear.
Never is the procrastinator more sincere.
Than when his very lack of motion.
Proves to be the absolute best notion.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
15, 2004 —
What to do?
Where to go?
How do you.
Make it so?
What to tackle next?
What to put off?
Shove aside the complex?
Will people scoff?
If all you do is build your body?
Socialize while the house looks shoddy?
Is it too late?
To learn some new?
Can you anticipate?
What's expected of you?
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
14, 2004 —
I examine me all day long.
Why watch this, do that, sing this song?
I want to account for every bit.
Why I write and why I sit.
I don't stop thinking about what it means.
And whether I should go to new extremes.
But I want no expectations from another quarter.
I think retirement should be a tall enough order.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
13, 2004 —
Sitting and watching the football games.
But.
During timeouts and commercials.
Getting some coffee.
Discussing with the relatives.
When we meet again.
And reading the papers.
No hurry. No stress.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
12, 2004 —
Shopping.
Comparison shopping.
Looking for bargains.
Catching a sale.
What a real deal.
To stay at home, stay off line.
And spend nothing.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
11, 2004 —
Blood money.
Net worth.
Follow the money.
Into the earth.
It's all about money.
Can't you see.
But money is ephemeral, it will always flee.
Means nothing until spent.
That's the key.
And spent it's gone and something else is in its stead.
So you see money is all in your head.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
10, 2004 —
It's not just you.
It's other people, too.
Who feel that they've been duped.
Or scooped.
Or ali-ooped.
You have some company that's for sure.
In hating the sycophants, the artifically pure.
The political schemers who long endure.
It's not only you with a Microsoft curse.
Feeling all the worse.
For their effect on your purse.
It's not just you that can't invest.
Without feeling it's an ESP test.
Nope, you are just like the rest.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov. 9, 2004 —
Your computer.
You develop a little environment.
Your mail here.
Surfing there.
Writing this. Editing that.
Another piece of software.
Lets you write a program, a script, scan a picture and change the red
devil eyes.
You build up files. You set options.
This delicate environment feels like home.
And then, Microsoft or a piece of faulty hardware
Sends you scurrying to reinstall, reset, reverify.
Find you disks, find your software, find your passwords.
It is never quite the same and there is a sense.
Of something being missing.
Until the new setup becomes your new home.
So fragile.
As if your home had burned down and you had to replace it all.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
8, 2004 —
Am I just getting to the place.
Where I know what to do.
How to run the race?
How to do what's cool?
Are am I just lazy?
More than taking it slow?
Am I going crazy?
How will I know?
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov. 7, 2004 —
Dreams distill what you know.
Play
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
7, 2004 —
Dreams distill what you know.
Play your memory as a movie.
An art circuit movie with layers of meaning.
If it matches a bit of the concrete.
We cling to the potential.
Of knowing what we can't know.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
6, 2004 —
Dreams are high speed data base sorts.
Of all the little memories, pieces and parts.
People fly by with odd connections.
By name, by place, by conviction.
If you wake and insert a story or tale.
On the randomness then, without fail.
Occasionally, just sometimes, maybe just once.
It will seem to reflect something in the future that comes.
And then you are a prophet.
A predictor, a guru.
Discounting the many dream fancies that never came true.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
6, 2004 —
Am I writing.
If no one reads?
Am I painting.
If no one needs.
Just the vision.
In my head?
And what of a film.
Not released but withheld instead.
Art hidden.
Without an audience.
Not rhyming.
Not assonance.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
5, 2004 —
Invite people in for food and drink.
More will come than you think.
They'll come early or they'll come late.
With appetites that are hard to sate.
Always mix the people up.
But not so fights erupt.
Just have a few wildcard ploys.
And maybe hand out silly toys.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
4, 2004 —
Remmber him?
Oh, yes.
We were talking to him somewhere, recently.
What's his last name again?
And what does he do?
And his wife.
I think we had a conversation.
Oh, yes...they recognize us.
Greeting us like old friends.
Are we more distinctive, more memorable.
Than they are?
Or do we just get out more?
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
3, 2004 —
What does you heart desire?
Watches encrusted with diamonds?
Designer handbags?
Not me.
I'll opt for travel and good shoes.
I'll take sturdy moderately expensive luggage.
That's easy to use.
I'll take some electronics.
And media, too.
I'll leave the R*lexes to you.
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
2, 2004 —
Your trousers never wrinkle.
Nor stain.
They resist the rain.
Your bagel never hardens.
Nor grows a friendly mold.
Doesn't get old.
With advances like these.
Can't we please...
Win the war?
AUSTIN, Texas, Nov.
1, 2004 —
"Will you go?"
"Sure, where? What time?"
Committed.
Give some structure.
It's only lunch, a movie, a cocktail.
A tennis match.
Sometimes I'd never budge.
If I hadn't committed.
Pick a book.
Read the acknowledgments.
(Because you are thorough.)
Then, you are committed.
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