Here’s the Buzz from The Hive, a lively interview featured on KSQD Radio with me and Dion O’Reilly. There we first talk about a poem that’s influenced me recently, “The City Limits” by A. R. Ammons from his Selected Poems, reprinted below from poets.org. In the interview, I refer to the poem as “The Radiance,” I believe in error. I guess that’s what stuck out to me. In any case, terrific poem, and, if you have time, I think a quite-nice interview between the two of us.

I hope you too find something uplifting in this poem.

The City Limits

A. R. Ammons – 1926-2001

When you consider the radiance, that it does not withhold
itself but pours its abundance without selection into every
nook and cranny not overhung or hidden; when you consider

that birds' bones make no awful noise against the light but
lie low in the light as in a high testimony; when you consider
the radiance, that it will look into the guiltiest

swervings of the weaving heart and bear itself upon them,
not flinching into disguise or darkening; when you consider
the abundance of such resource as illuminates the glow-blue

bodies and gold-skeined wings of flies swarming the dumped
guts of a natural slaughter or the coil of shit and in no
way winces from its storms of generosity; when you consider

that air or vacuum, snow or shale, squid or wolf, rose or lichen,
each is accepted into as much light as it will take, then
the heart moves roomier, the man stands and looks about, the

leaf does not increase itself above the grass, and the dark
work of the deepest cells is of a tune with May bushes
and fear lit by the breadth of such calmly turns to praise.

It’s not time to loosen up on those distancing restrictions for the foreseeable.

You can do it, now! Now do it right! Watch out baby. Don’t you get toooo tight!

Here’s a much better sound recording, and, well, some different steps. Try both!

Everybody. Tighten up. Stay home. Sock it to ’em.

What are you listening to?

I’m not talking about what you can hear at the moment, though if I pause the light tapping of my fingers on the keyboard for a moment, I can hear a number of things: a far-off mower, Frank opening the back door, a plane’s distant rumble, the furnace–which was not running all this frigid morning, but hoorah for “essential services!” is now fixed–kicks on. I’ll be hearing the warm air blowing through the vents soon. Yup. There’s more to hear in any moment than we can pay attention to at once, our brain effectively shutting out what it deems non-essential in any given situation.

What I am talking about is not just the act of listening, of intentionally paying attention to the ambient sounds that surround us, but instead the choice to listen to a specific source of sound. Like Elton John, above. He’s clearly chosen to listen to something in those headphones, and that’s all he appears to be doing. He’s not also reading a book. He’s not looking at his phone that hasn’t been invented yet. He’s not knitting. Not clipping his nails, eating lunch, or any of the other things we typically do while wearing earbuds. He’s tuning in.

What are you tuning in to? Too much news? Your favorite outlet running nonstop in the background forming a sort of soundtrack for the day? (more…)

Cooped up. But here’s what I’m getting ready to read next. I’ve read The Hobbit before, and read it aloud to my children before, but it’s been quite some time. I’ve just finished reading a memoir, will finish up friend and DMQ Reviews’ editor Annie Kim’s remarkable new book of poetry, Eros Unbroken, and then, to the Hobbit hole, and there and back again. I’m ready to lose myself in this familiar tale, a hero’s journey, with all the page-turning adventures that lie along the way. You’ve never read it? Aw, come on!

Reading is one way to find some wings during this time of isolation and confinement. To be carried away on the wings of words, taken by the imagination, to lose myself in a narrative outside my own inner monologue offers a great escape, and somehow a way “there” into the unknown, and a way back, distracted if not renewed. But I hope renewed.  What are you reading?

I found another type of wings: my bike! Do you have one? It was so invigorating to stream through the spring air, pedaling, pedaling, feeling wind on my face. Feeling distance pass beneath the tires, remembering how the body remembers, through movement. It’s so different from riding in/on a vehicle. To propel myself through space, foot to pedal, pedal to chain, chain to wheel, pushing, turning, spinning. Well clearly some imagination was at work as well, but even now I can re-imagine that short ride. I can breathe the memory in. There will be more.

We are cooped up, but we do have wings. Here’s another I’ve recently discovered. I’ve had a couple of distance visits using Zoom, a free online program, and while I can’t reach out and touch someone through the computer screen, it’s so great to see the faces of friends gathered in one “place.” I’ve got a virtual happy hour scheduled tomorrow. Such amazing new ways to connect, to spring out of the cages of our rooms and gloomy thoughts. What are your wings?

There and back again, that’s my goal this season. As with any hero’s journey, I don’t know where the way leads or how I’ll make it. Part of the journey involves self-care, another extending care to others, or as Amy Klobuchar said, to “be generous in spirit.” The two are linked, right? A broken spirit needs care in order to be generous, and quite often being generous buoys the spirit, another type of wings.

Stay safe~

In case you missed this amazing interview with former Presidential candidate, Amy Klobuchar, she’s speaking with Rachel Maddow about her husband John who was hospitalized yesterday, Monday, with the virus after testing positive that morning. He had a fever for 10 days, and the test results took 5 more! What in the world. That’s no way to stop a pandemic. One thing we can do is call the White House to urge P.T. to activate the National Defense Production Act to rescue our health care infrastructure, 202-456-1111, full instructions at whitehouse.gov

I’m including this clip even though it cuts off right before the most moving part, so moving in light of the grim details that come before it that I jotted her words down. Her segment begins right around 3:20. First, take a close look at Senator Klobuchar whom we have grown used to watching in formal press conferences and debates, camera-ready. She’s exhausted. Yes, she’s standing in the Capitol after a full day of Senate negotiations over the covid virus aid bill and she will return to them after talking with Maddow. Her husband at that moment is on oxygen, states away in a Minnesota hospital after his self-quarantine during which time she didn’t see him. Even now she’s unable to be at his side; visitors, even high-profile visitors, are not allowed. (more…)

It really is that kind of day. Again. Already. The trick will be how to keep each day from feeling like this, like Groundhog Day, another replay of the same routine. Wake up. Eat. Email. Projects. Exercise. Eat. Plan dinner. So we can later eat. Take a walk. Read. Call someone on the phone. Watch the Newshour at 3. Now it’s 4. Chores/projects. Dinner. Chores. “Better Call Saul” x 2 (we’re on Season  2 already, reruns). Read. Sleep. Repeat.

In some ways, that’s not so different from my regular routine unhindered by ShIP, I hate to admit. I usually work from home. It’s that I MUST stay home that makes it so awfully tiresome. Or worse. And that I can’t spend time with my family, friends, or even the community at large. Naomi Shihab-Nye’s reading that was cancelled this week. Judy Collin’s cancelled May concert.

Well, it just damn-well is the way it is.

I do realize that the flip side of this repetitive, “boring” rerun indicates how much is going well. Wonderfully, please-may-it-continue-to-be, well. The stability of health, #1, of (more…)