Let others pray for the passenger pigeon
the dodo, the whooping crane, the eskimo:
everyone must specialize
I will confine myself to a meditation
upon the giant tortoises
withering finally on a remote island.
I concentrate in subway stations,
in parks, I can’t quite see them,
they move to the peripheries of my eyes
but on the last day they will be there;
already the event
like a wave travelling shapes vision:
on the road where I stand they will materialize,
plodding past me in a straggling line
awkward without water
their small heads pondering
from side to side, their useless armour
sadder than tanks and history,
in their closed gaze ocean and sunlight paralysed,
lumbering up the steps, under the archways
toward the square glass altars
where the brittle gods are kept,
the relics of what we have destroyed,
our holy and obsolete symbols.
"Why can’t I put my life back together" is tonight’s phrase of choice for weeping into chicken sandwiches, so I guess things are pretty awesome today.
Friend of mine just landed a position heading up Harvard Medical School’s faggotry relations bureau. They call it the “Office for Diversity, Inclusion, and Community.”
So congratulations are in order: she is now officially the captain of the HMS DIC.
I just discovered that in Rails, it’s not actually necessary to define an empty, logicless controller method if you’re just going to render a view, and that you can in fact even still wrap those views in filters and Rails will automagically fill in the blanks, and fell to my knees and wept like a babe in arms.