Gary says I shouldn’t get all excited about newfound powers of precognition but… this is, you must admit, uncanny…

the morning before last, just before awaking, I had a vivid dream about Hillary Rodham Clinton. She is not a usual subject of my dreams, although Bill has appeared in them a couple of times, I think. I don’t remember what the dream was about exactly — perhaps I was making a documentary about her? Or perhaps I was following her around to express my admiration for her (I mean my admiration for her in the dream — in real life my admiration for her is considerably “problematized”)? At any rate, it was quite clear that this dream was focused on her.

And in my mailbox that very day, campaign mail from Hillary Rodham Clinton, United States Senator. Wha????

I just don’t understand, why Hillary Clinton?

Can anyone give me a reasonable explanation for this?


held (held!)
held me night
held (held!) held me

held dining might

twi-goose light

is the might
held my goose light

muffles light twi—————– twilight

grease and twitchless
held light


tiny verse caplet

fine dining light, dine and night

dining and twining and gooooooose
label brining

goose label brining

dining is feathered troy

held dine mint light
held dine mint light

belled by midnight
tied by belling
in their flatter might

heaven by midnight
dining my men
capped by midnight
in my wincing
dream – that’s a tur——–tle fly


eentsy common hind

lipping meanie


grizzly tiny lip

in my tiny plot

hubfest in my dining

my dining calm
my dining blob and ding tiny blob

russet eavesdropping
eavesdrop the shiny
she’s a goddess, a seal
a tiny blob, a tiny blob

and has a blobby eye

she’s a mormon, a mormon

and has a blobby eye.


dinah, my breast has a spent bobbin
fear sick and vice in liven bobbing

dish one was finer, fear dish one
finer fine roleplay fur, don’t take
my fear here there


(for the feast of the circumcision)

see hear and fear the tribe and vibe
as it comes in the helicopter

it’s a cold knee vibe
it’a a cold knee vibe

dranken golden

it has gold fleece

in lolly chan all meter hands
excel in pink

then we can see it in solemn
in solemn and pink

wrinkle——————– wrinkle

wrinkle ————– its mead distill


(for the feast of the epiphany)

guide his blang
guide his lotus

guide his blang, his blang

guide his lotus
guide his balm, guide his secret
guide his broom, guide his guide
guide his secrets, guide his lotus
guide his feeling, his lotus broom.

guide his mold –
chickens in jesus

guide his countess
guide his duchess

promise his goldfish
hold his spirit, hide
his calm, hide you,
promise his go—————–ldfish –
prime his matter, hide his
goldfish and shout:

guide his lom, guide his rhesus
guide his broom gui————–de his
lotus, his room, his trillium, his order,
his fenugreek.

I wrote here not long ago about my brilliant and delightful student, Natsue Okabe, and her brilliant and delightful blog. Her latest entry is about our class field trip down Coney Island Avenue.

Today, she gave her final presentation in my class. The students had been assigned to give a report on a neighborhood that we hadn’t had a chance to visit as a class. Natsue’s topic was Williamsburg. She was full of historical and cultural information about that area, and she peppered the presentation with profiles of Williamsburg people (including a Hasidic man who refused to be photographed). Imagine my surprise when she introduced a powerpoint slide with a picture of Lisa Jarnot! “Hey, that’s Lisa!” I exclaimed. Natsue had interviewed Lisa, who was selling stuff on the street, about her feelings about living in Williamsburg (she didn’t care about the changes in the neighborhood, but she complained about the rent). Isn’t that odd? What are the chances, with all the millions of people living in this metropolis, of such a coincidence occurring, do you think?

In Friday’s NY Times, there was an article about Tashnuba Hayder, a 16-year old Queens girl, the daughter of Muslim immigrants, who had been forced/coerced to Bangladesh (not technically deported, although she may as well have been) by the FBI, who saw her as a potential terrorist threat. Did you read this? There were many reasons to feel amazed and appalled by this story, particularly by Tashnuba’s plight (I mean, my goodness, we’re talking about a young woman who pledged, in her diary, to “practice lowering gaze to fullest”!). I was, however, charmed by this quote from Tashnuba:

“They thought I was anti-American because I didn’t want to compromise, but in my high-school ethics class we had Communists, Democrats, Republicans, Gothics — all types…”

That settles it. Next election, I’m voting the Gothic ticket all the way.

1. Total number of books I’ve owned:

I have no idea how many books I’ve owned and I’m either too dignified or too innumerate to count even “how many would fit in a box…” etc. What could possibly be the intent of this question except to measure one’s strap-on faux-intellectual codpiece? If I sound like I’m threatened or defensive I’m really not, because, you know, I read most anything that’s on the kitchen table, and faster (and probably earlier) than anyone you know, probably. So, there’s my piece of macho. Anyway, my living spaces have always been limited. When my mom and I lived in the tent in Bolinas, my few books got water-damaged – Andersen’s fairy tales & Alice in Wonderland. I still have warped Alice. When I left SF for Tokyo I put most of my books in storage (and what a surprise, when I moved in with G., to get those boxes back, and relive the era in which I’d acquired them – SF in the 80s! Wow!) , except for my gorgeous antique kids’ books, which I foolishly entrusted with a roommate. They are now, of course, gone. Gone.

2. Last book I bought:

I’m embarrassed to admit that the last book I bought was my own, V. Imp., cheap, off Amazon, because I’m out of copies and I want to give it to someone. The last book I received in the mail was 5000 Designs and Motifs from India. I’m awaiting shipment of Simplicity: Simply the Best Sewing Book, and, from eBay, Fashion Sewing for Everyone (a vintage book from the 70s), and Claire Schaeffer’s Sewing Shortcuts.

3. Last book I read:

The last book I read was Alli Warren’s wonderful new chapbook, Houndz. The one before that was a book Gary had bought to read on the plane, that little hilarious book on punctuation, Eats Shoots and Leaves. The last two books I took out of the Pratt library were Fit and Fabric and How to Make Clothes that Fit and Flatter.

4. Four books that mean a lot to me

Some v. imp books:

The Pillow Book I just noticed that G. has this book on his list, too. Well, there you have it. Basically I just want to read people’s [well-written] diaries.
A Lover’s Discourse
Alice’s in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass

Now I pass baton toAlli.