jolie laide

jolie laide

I started this when I lived in Brooklyn and struggled for grace in a city that grants moments of beauty and ugliness breathtakingly close to one another. Now I live in a place where things are a different kind of ugly and the beauty is pedestrian. I struggle with that.


I'm leaving work on time, but already the horizon is pinking and the full moon is well up. On the sidewalk is a man in a waiting posture and he sees I've got a slew of hula hoops slung over my shoulder and waves his hand in a circular motion at me.

The highway on-ramp is slowed by an underpowered overburdened little pick up truck. Its suspension is roached out and it bellies and sways up the slope. A magic song comes on the radio and at the end of this week, finally, satisfaction and a quieting. and I am grateful to have had an enormously rich life. To have shown up for it fully present means I know about The Dog Suit and the Bicycle; Dr. Zaks Pyramid of Doughnuts; The Great Banana Experiment; What You Can See in the X-Ray of a Dog; The How to Curse in Hungarian Thanksgiving DInner. The sun is lowering behind the hills that ring the reservoir and now I'm on my way home.


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