Monthly Archives: December 2008


I was surprised by the disappointment and sense of loss I felt because my plan to have a vegetable plot in a farmer’s nearby field did not come to be. I found I missed the sweetness and mystery of the faces Sweet Heart and I loved, practically instantly. Out of that sadness came the poem “I Will Keep Broken Things.”

In this way:
True to… Continue reading


December #8


The first morning we went out to the farm at which my ant free produce might grow, we found a huge field had been raked over by somebody else’s tractor, since the farm’s vehicle needed much more work. It was a vast field. I tried to explain once again that I had wanted an area more like a large rug, not something broad… Continue reading


December #7


Setting out collard starts in a bed where they may be eaten by ants overnight, I had some insights: One was that some old, unconscious programming is still alive and well in my head, and probably in my whole body. I was becoming tired from bending, and hot from the morning sun, which, though delightful at eight was not so at ten. My… Continue reading


December #6
So what about marriage?


It seems to me such a private affair, to which one invites only the public that one loves. I was married once, illegally, as has been well documented. I was very much in love with the man I married, and could not agree with the state that his color made him unacceptable for matrimony. But there has been such… Continue reading

December #5

Muntadar al- Zaidi, the Iraqi journalist who tried to hit George Bush with his shoe, has captured the world’s imagination, causing each of us to wonder: if we had the opportunity, what would we use to hit Bush? I am the least violent person I know: I cannot imagine hitting anyone, though I do not deny an occasional urge to strike out when… Continue reading

December #4


My friends don’t want me to be stressed out by the violence, caused by drugs, that is occurring in Mexico, and the attempts of the government to expose and bring to justice those who are harming Mexican society so grievously. When we walk along the streets in Mexico City, with its ubiquitous fountains and wonderful art, a city I like a lot, though… Continue reading

December #3


As the hornmigas appear to be winning this year, I have had to take other measures. Neither Sweet Heart nor I wish to be without our own patch of collards, no matter where we are! So, we went with friends to visit a small family farm near Villa (named for Pancho) and asked if, in exchange for a financial offering, I might create… Continue reading

December #2


Facing La Madre, the fountain.

Meditation. Sweeping. Making and drinking tea. Speaking Spanish with Manuel, whom I have named, to myself, Wise Heart. Because he is one of the wisest people I know.

Yesterday a beautiful black or dark brown snake came into the doorway. I called Sweet Heart, my partner in these adventures, who gently picked it up and placed it back… Continue reading

December #1

Today, a few hours before sunset, I went with friends to place sixty-four tiny turtles back into the ocean. They had come ashore months before as embryos in their mothers’ bodies. The mothers had laid the soft, leathery, eggs in deep, under-sand nests, covered them carefully, and left them to hatch, before returning to the ocean’s depths. My sweetheart and I had walked… Continue reading

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