Some revision & TOC inclusion

6 files changed, 89 insertions, 9 deletions

@@ -0,0 +1,13 @@
+Abraham, Abraham, you are old and cannot hear
+my small voice under the creaking of your grief.
+Your eyes are dim and connot see the ram
+as it creates itself from the bush, fashioning
+its horns from brambles, its wool from leaves,
+its hooves from the rock of the mountain.
+
+Your hand is shaky, but it is sure to its goal.
+The knife is blunt but not blunt enough.
+
+I am here to stay your hand, to blunt
+the knife, to bring the ram out from itself
+so that it can realize its purpose
@@ -0,0 +1,9 @@
+_How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,
+ but frightening that it does not quite._
+_A word is elegy to what it signifies._
+
+The world is somewhat large and unwieldy.
+This is something I think we can all agree on.
+And although we may be unwieldy, knocking around semi-anonymously between our work and our families, between eating and sleeping, between the bigness that surrounds us on both sides like a tall hedge wall, we are by no means large.
+This is something else we can agree on, if we're honest with ourselves.
+
@@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
+I didn't see it for days, or even months.
+I lost track after a while how long it was.
+Then one night, there it was, reclining
+on the mountains as if they were a couch.
+_I missed you_, I said, but it didn't hear
+or it pretended not to, I don't know which.
+I thought it was looking right at me, but
+it could've been staring over my shoulder
+at something glinting.  I guess I have to try
+harder, try something different.  I'm going
+to sing to it, bring it flowers every night,
+something white to brighten up my hands.
+
+Years later, when I've won it back, when
+it shows itself to me without asking, I'll
+
@@ -1,9 +1,35 @@
-He didn't have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing
-until it gleamed like a tomato on the vine that was begging
-to be picked and thrown on some caprese.  Death loved caprese.
-
-He stood up to put the horn to his lips, trying to imagine
-it was a woman he loved.  He blushed as he realized how bad
-the metaphor was.  He practiced anyway for six hours a day
-in front of the mirror---what else was there to do with time
-that stretched like the mozzarella on Death's caprese?
+| He didn't have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing
+| until it gleamed like a [tomato on the vine][] that was begging
+| to be picked and thrown on some caprese.  Death loved caprese.
+
+| He stood up to put the horn to his lips, trying to imagine
+| it was a woman he loved.  He blushed as he realized how bad
+| [the metaphor was][].  He practiced anyway for six hours a day
+| in front of the mirror---what else to do with all the time?
+
+| Death looked at [himself in the mirror][] as he played, the trumpet
+| suspended in midair.  _Damn vampire rules_, he thought.
+| He was always worried he might have [missed a spot][] while shaving
+| but he'd never know unless a stranger---he had no friends---
+| was kind enough.  Not that he goes out anyway or meets people.
+
+| He started waking up late, staying in bed later.
+| He started thinking he was depressed.  He never did eat
+| that caprese, and it started getting soggy, green spots
+| spreading on the mozzarella like bedsores.  The sun
+| filtered through the [kitchen blinds like smoke][]. He had
+| to get out of the house.  He decided to go to the arcade.
+
+| When he got there, it was empty except for a boy
+| [with dead eyes][].  So far so good, Death thought.
+| He was playing a first-person shooter, something violent.
+| Death walked past him and watched out of the corner
+| of his eye.  The kid was good.  Death decided
+| to congratulate him.  He had his trumpet in his hand.
+
+[himself in the mirror]: moongone.html
+[with dead eyes]: big-dipper.html
+[tomato on the vine]: wallpaper.html
+[the metaphor was]: leaf.html
+[missed a spot]: january.html
+[kitchen blinds like smoke]: what-we-are-made-of.html
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+I am a great pillar of white smoke.
+I am Lot's nameless wife encased in salt.
+
+I am the wound on Christ's wrist groaning
+under the repeated weight of a hammer.
+
+I am the nail in the wound that points
+toward heaven.  I am the nail that holds
+
+his kingdom together around my cold
+thin body.
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+stuff = i-am
+grump = $(patsubst %,%*,$(stuff))
+
+test:
+        @echo $(grump)