Month: October 2011

grief

Nada GordonLeave a comment

did he come in to get his bike “stealthily.”
why must he always behave in stealth.
who let him in the building.
shudder.

and she, she is making big plans.
we had a story once, I was to play a part.
as she did for me.

I thought these people “loved” me.

people. are __________.

grief
grief
grief
grief
grief

grief

now back to grading papers
and working on the confusing future.

reading about anxious attachment

Nada GordonLeave a comment

Ersatz helium veal enduring, no, besplendoring, the aching sense of raw philosophy. Mother cleans the harmonium, brother slaps dingbat fascists. Cousins while away the basic needs in a humdrum rush of pathos. I don’t know, how to reason with cheese, do the elves like me, etc. I had a “man.” I “had” a man: am I part of history? The slime, the reasons, the elves, the contours, the crumpets are parts of history. He got…his cells in me. I’m in his cells as “history,” and to mark time, I write…on the…walls.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Grappling

Nada Gordon3 Comments

This thought: the aim of a revolution should be not simply a redistribution of power and resources but also a practical application of caritas-love. Grappling with the disappointment of eros-love, the eros-love that was supposed to “solve everything,” to be the magic balm on the open wounds of the past, makes me suspicious of the ability of human beings to structure the best possible world for the greatest possible advantage to all. Is this just a terrible flaw in my thinking. Is it not even really thinking at all.

Depression really is just an awful bugbear of a thing.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

quinoa thingies

Nada GordonLeave a comment

I made some quinoa thingies.  They are pretty good.

I guess I used about a cup and a half of quinoa flour.  I added about a cup of chopped moroccan oil-cured olives, a little salt and pepper, and sort of a lot of olive oil.  I’m sorry my measurements aren’t more precise.  Then maybe three tablespoons or so of water?  Not much, because the water makes them chewy, whereas the oil makes them flaky.  A sprinkle of fines herbes. I made flattish shapes in my palm, patting them flatter.  Those went on oiled baking sheets for ten minutes at 375 degrees, then flipped them and let them bake for another five minutes.

They are good. Careful of the salt: not too much, since the olives are salty.  The thingies (“crackers”?) have the texture of pie crust.  If you are a real baker you might want to consider rolling them out or something.  Anyway I like them, they are addictive: the bitterness of the quinoa flour against the nutty bitterness of the olives.

They are good with just salt, too.  Fleurs de sel if you got it. Yum.

very small pink clump

Nada Gordon1 Comment

few things are sadder than the sight
of a thin gold anklet trapped beneath
a suntan-colored nylon. the people
in the morning clutch their warm cups.
they have water bottles and sensible
shoes, earbuds, catalogs, and weary
faces.  the world pulses with violence.
maws are gateways to realms as mysterious
as they are frightening. a garbage car
slithers into it, the particularly
frightening vagina embroidered
on soiled vintage linen. how are they
not beset constantly with anxiety?
the activists take to the streets, maws
gaping. a man’s calf nearly as big as my
waist, which also makes me worry.
a garbage car slithers into it.
the absorption rate for the Soul
Eater’s melée attacks is increased
by 5%.  I wanted to put the lobster
into a comic, because he’s been
distressingly absent… on soiled
vintage linen.  gaping maw. many
of these links to my poetry are broken.
why are women so angry?
I also clutch a paper cup. the world
pulses with violence. illness waits
as ninja. Nearly half a century old,
I pop a pill. I’ve been a busy little
bandit lately.  young gulls.  you are
here: foul grin. yes, it swam up his
penis and into his bladder. it is human
nature to have fears and phobias:
mutant wooly worm alpaca.
why are women so angry?
they always throw things like
an angry gorilla when they get mad.
whazzat? critique zombie sex
feels good duh.  why are women
so angry?  life is harder for chicks,
their all pissed off cause they feel
feelings.  how to use slither in a
sentence.  example sentences
with the word slither.  I wanted
to put the lobster in a comic. why
are women so angry? anyone already
say “sand in Va-J-J?”     they cannot
even cook a decent meal anymore so
why bother. venomous email young gulls
foul grin.  I tried to hold it and take it out
but the eel was too slippery to be held
and it disappeared up my penis. Sar
Chasm is a massive socially progressive
nation.  do they feel nothing? with their
tote bags and lack of parity. is he going to
“marry” her, too? will his mother “welcome
her into the bosom of the family”? you’d
be angry too if you bled 1 week a month besides
you should never trust anything that bleeds
that much and doesn’t die. young gulls. trashy
sisters. horrible shiny dresses. abandoned
me. the main goals of feminism were destruction
of the nuclear family unit and emaciation
of the males. paper-cup clutchers: “mama.”
my students’ fresh faces. women rely on
emotion and not so much analytical
rationalization, in short they don’t think
as much. a very small pink clump.  catalogs.
you just want some female to feel sorry
for you and take care of you and wash
your stinky underwear and your dirty
dishes and cook for you. hello!  I am
the virgin mary magdalene! I am carrying
miraculous triplets similar to the virgin
mary. all things astronomy. you are here:
foul grin.  why are women so angry? you
want to sit on your lazy asses all day,
and watch tv, and drinkin beer and smoke
dope. I tried to hold it and take it out. sex
feels good duh. sometimes it amazes me.
the sensible work shoes. gateways.
a particularly frightening-looking vagina. 
the throat, gullet, or jaws especially of
a voracious animal. many of these links
to my poetry are broken. he’s been
distressingly absent: the insatiable lobster
at the end of the course. The insatiable clown
prepared to go shopping, but realized
that he actually forgot his wallet. he actually
forgot his gullet.  he actually forgot his
particulaly frightening vagina-Cicada;
Clouded Leopard; Clown Anemonefish;
Coelacanth; Common Earthworm;
Common Loon. unicorns for
socialism. the insatiable clown
at the end of the course, many
of these links to my poetry
are broken