Mkgnao!*

Sea cats!

There seem to be far fewer stray cats than when I visited in 2005. I am not sure if this is due to the increased vigilance of animal rights groups (like Fundación Altarriba, El Jardinet dels Gats, Animals Sense Sostre, Protectora BCN) that run numerous programs to spay/neuter and find homes for strays, or some other, more sinister reason. Perhaps I will research this and get back to you, someday!

Wavewhite wedded words*

I haven’t shared many thoughts on my experience of reading Ulysses. This has been more out of sheer laziness than a lack of commentary. I will try to be more forthcoming in the future.

To get started, one of my favorite things about the book is that Joyce basically invents his own language. I don’t think Ulysses was written in English, really, it is written in Joycean, an ever changing, ever surprising mixture of different tones, colloquialisms, rhythms, and sounds. I truly loved his descriptions of the sea, especially as a poet.

The following poem doesn’t owe much to Joyce, especially as it is not particularly experimental as far as language is concerned, but it is my response to walking along the beach on a turbulent spring day.


Sea Green

We watch the waves crunch
like soft gears on the beach,
a mouth full of froth and sand.

The meek Mediterranean wants
to be an ocean today, beats
its chest with white fists,
eats the land with fury,
and howls deeply. The sky

is a flash and muffle, the sun
has come and gone, gold
mixes with grey reflections,
cold green, vague blue, the water
is pale and moody, the color
of the lip of a china tea cup.

Wild sea money.*

Last weekend, Mikael and I went down to Sitges to get away from my evil computer telling me bad things about MFA programs. It was hard to remember why I wanted to go to classes in cold places back in America while watching the sunshine on the Mediterranean.
And remember my friends, we're broke, but we'll always have wild sea money.