The
Visible Woman
Just Types
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec. 31, 2004 —
I resolve to put in the time.
And to listen and watch and remember.
And to do one more set.
A simple path to change for the better.
I hope so.
And then next year I'll resolve again.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
30, 2004 —
I'll just do this, start on that.
I wonder if this would work?
Spend a hour, figuring out.
And then discarding the result.
Puzzling, thinking.
Buy a book.
Throw out the old.
Do something new.
Creating instant nostalgia for the familar.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
29, 2004 —
I'm happy with it.
It could have been different.
But hardly better really.
There are richer people.
Prettier.
There are people who do more.
Know more.
Better forehands.
But I'm happy with it.
I saved enough to sit and ponder.
What's enough.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
28, 2004 —
In my mind I see it.
A different me.
More focused and neater.
Leading a simpler life.
Fitter and fulfilled.
In my mind I see it.
But it doesn't make it so.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
27, 2004 —
Nature plays a massive game.
We analyze and report.
In the end we are helpless.
And should not be amazed.
That, once, people made gods.
Of earth and wind and sea.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
26, 2004 —
Dots arranged upon the world.
Make a pattern on a brain.
We are orts or atoms.
Of something bigger than ourselves.
The universe does not take note of us.
And so we invent a god who does.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
25, 2004 —
Without change.
Time itself would not move.
The position of every little thing.
Changing.
Changing everything.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
24, 2004 —
Christmas Eve.
Fraught with memory.
I no longer expect.
The lovely smells from the kitchen.
Of real cooks.
Nor a surprise or a hilarious game.
I no longer have the glorious feeling.
Of time off from school. Not even work.
I decorate. I follow food tradition.
I like this store-bought gravy because there are giblets.
But is so just another day.
When things are closing down.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
23, 2004 —
Resolutions, goals, your aim.
It always amounts to the same.
You don't do.
Anything new.
And avoid fame and acclaim.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
22, 2004 —
You come, expectant.
And yet, not really knowing.
Bearing little gifts.
Piling coats on the bed.
Greetings and conversations.
Didn't I see him?
It's been so long.
Must do it again soon.
Munching and drinking.
You find a time to leave.
Out into the cold with the smell of the neighbor's fireplace.
Since we only gave you one on DVD.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
21, 2004 —
The house looks ready, expectant.
It's clean.
You wouldn't want the guests.
To see the mess.
Until they make it.
You want the platter to look symmetrical.
Until it's atttacked.
You want the look of plenty.
You want to have enough.
But you want it all to be gone.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
20, 2004 —
You are invited though sometimes not explicitly.
You come.
You admire the food and drink and decor.
You look through the books.
You talk and drink and eat.
Occasionally spill or break.
You laugh and talk and meet new people.
You leave, early or late.
And finally everyone is gone.
But, usually, someone has left something behind.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
19, 2004 —
Death is sure-footed, always winning.
But yielding the time trials to others.
Death always finishes his business.
Death has the last laugh.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
18, 2004 —
Each day you need.
Money to live.
The bills.
You want to have a few things.
Clothes, books, TVs.
Buy music and gadgets.
Go out.
You want to travel.
Not to work.
Then there are levels of the game.
Can you give away millions?
Charter a plane?
Can you cure cancer or get a building with your name?
But each day you need, you can use.
Only so much.
The benefits start to be hard to define.
You have the stuff, the cash.
But do you have the time?
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
17, 2004 —
Have a few people over.
For drinks.
A casual thing.
Must have food.
Ice.
Plates, napkins.
Be prepared.
This one wants water, this one coffee.
Do you have enough space?
Chairs?
Who will come? Who says they will and won't?
Who doesn't respond but comes...with others in tow?
Will fun be had by all?
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
16, 2004 —
If you have several days.
You should accomplish a lot.
Until you subtract the time to sleep.
The time to eat.
The time to relax.
The time to do things that don't really count.
Like typing this and rinsing dishes out.
Like driving here and shopping there.
Thinking and wishing.
You had more time.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
15, 2004 —
Make a plan.
Dream people wil be happy.
Social interaction.
Safe transport.
Feels good.
If it comes together.
And it's over.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
14, 2004 —
One day your health will fail.
You are dying cell by cell.
One day you'll be shorter, maybe fatter.
Going upstairs no laughing matter.
It will come, slow or fast.
Taking your figure, maybe your past.
It will happen, no matter what you do.
And looking at your elders is your first clue.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
13, 2004 —
If you do this every day.
Do it regularly, do it well.
You will one day be able to say:
"I'm in the habit and that's why my life's swell."
So when you start you see that dream.
But through the future cloud.
You know that one day the scheme.
Will not have made you proud.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
12, 2004 —
If you write and post.
And have your say.
Pay your WEB host.
FTP every day.
Will people read and disagree?
Write and point out mistakes with glee?
Or will they leave you mostly alone?
Free to reread your life on your own?
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
11, 2004 —
You buy it. Unpack it. Store it away.
Maybe you even use it a little that day.
In any case something remains of it.
It sits, collects dust, you forget.
If you need it you find it not.
Or you find it and it's gone to rot.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
10, 2004 —
Rush, rush, always late.
Taking a chance, tempting fate.
What if there's traffic, what if there's no time?
Will you finish before the deadline?
You get a rush from the rush.
Adreneline hits the brain.
And if it seems at first blush.
That you are crazy, you're really sane.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
9, 2004 —
How hard to dust and cook and clean?
To weed the yard to mow and edge?
To straighten, do laundry, take out the trash?
Easier when someone else is doing it.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
8, 2004 —
Do it every day.
Without fail.
Always finish, don't complain.
Soon you'll find you've accomplished much.
As day after day compelled action.
As turning the calendar triggered your work.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
7, 2004 —
When it runs dry.
When it's withdrawn.
Water, water, oh, my.
Forgotten until it's gone.
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
6, 2004 —
Got a moment to focus?
Got a minute to spend?
What's all the ADD fuss?
You can get to the end.
A minute here, a second there.
A few moments to spare.
You can finish if you dare.
You can do it, yes, there!
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
5, 2004 —
Spark of terror.
To get attention.
Is there an error?
In the implementation?
Was Dylan wrong?
In his song?
Would we forget the Weathermen after all?
Would the wind simply blow away the clarion call?
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
4, 2004 —
Have some fun!
Get work done!
What's it come to now?
Can't tell the difference anyhow!
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
3, 2004 —
Feeding yourself.
Washing and grooming.
Making the bed.
Shopping.
Keeping your clothes.
It can all seem to fill your day.
When to earn or learn?
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
2, 2004 —
Buy it now!
Limited time sale.
Get bargains every day at the big box.
Fill the cart, check off your list.
You're saving money!!!
Only.
Isn't saved money supposed to be in the bank?
AUSTIN, Texas, Dec.
1, 2004 —
Eye on the prize.
Focus down.
See with mind and eyes.
The coming reknown.
Finishing it and finishing it well.
Wouldn't that be swell?
Instead.
Dilemmas and false starts.
Changes of interest, changes of heart.
Swinging and swaying this way then that.
Flashes of brilliance and then it goes flat.
just
typing
mood, health and well-being
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