Notices by dogtrax (dogtrax@mastodon.social), page 15

@tellio @Algot

If I could
pin you
on my map,
I'd do it
gently,
with care
and compassion,
the coordinates
criss-crossing
that space
we call
liminal,
illogical,
fantasy:
the places we
seem to
often meet.

#smallpoems

@Algot @tellio

Two feet
planted
on either sides
of the
earth.

#smallpoems response to reaction to #smallstories (this is emerging as a sort of like a chain mail poem, creating the middle ground among us)

@tellio

So much of our perception falls into dichotomy,
the world as two parts:
playground or
prison.

The news reports the story,
of the man
who found the crease:
prison or
playground.

Or neither.

#smallpoems response to #smallstories

@naugeleh Good visual now in my head of a hula hooping stilt-walking parade dancer ...

@fgraver @Downes Everything is perception and experience, and who knows? Not all parades are remembrance and celebration ... some are underlying public protests ..

“I somehow made it to fourth grade without ever seeing the Peanuts comic strip. So I don’t know that I’m imitating Lucy when I put signs up all over my elementary school, advertising my services as a therapist.”

-- from Look Alive Out There, by Sloane Crosley, page 203

#smallquotes

I thought someone left the light on in the bathroom. Not unusual when you have kids. I popped into the room from the hallway to turn off the switch, and maybe yell at someone about bills, when I realized it was not the light at all. It was the sun, shining in perfectly through the window, reflecting perfectly off the mirror. The result was a rather dazzling display of light, filling the entire room. I stared. Minutes later, the earth shifted, and the light-show ended. #smallstories

#smallpoems (left the 's' off and found a bunch of other poems .. cool, that)

(I've been following some students on a "blog takeover" -- invited -- of a writer's site. The theme has been notebooks. This morning, the day's student writer -- Faith -- wrote about a love of pens and she wrote a poem. I left this #smallpoem riff for her).

Ahh, pens,
such wonderful
pens ...
remind me
again, of what
I meant to say
when I arrived
at the end?
How can I erase
the day away
if, instead of pencil,
I almost always
seem to use
ink-filled
heart-filled
feelings-spilled
pens?

I marched in many a parade when I was younger. First, as a member of our high school marching band. Then, in the military, where our National Guard unit often took part in local events. I don't miss it -- the synchronized conformity of walking the street as a collective. Still, as our city celebrated 150 years of consecutive Memorial Day parades yesterday, to honor those who died, I felt a bit nostalgic. Being part of something larger than yourself has a certain draw to it. #smallstories

“We humans are good at naming our mistakes.”

--from Endling (The Last), by Katherine Applegate, page 167

#smallquotes

@susannah Yep. Read it when it came out. Agree.

I #amreading All the Answers by Michael Kupperman, a graphic memoir of his father's time as a Quiz Kid media star. Intriguing story, use of comic to dive into personal history.

@0x3F We barely notice. That's the thing. Until we do. Then, that's the other thing. Thanks for your story this morning.

How strange it is
to write about
collaboration across
global networks
while sitting all alone,
with a cup of coffee,
at my kitchen table,
in near complete
silence, the thrumming
of past activities
reduced to imprecise words,
as reflections
on the screen.

#smallpoems

I'm watching two squirrels use the backyard fence as a narrow pathway. Back and forth, they zip, chasing each other, balancing precariously on the top rungs of the fence line. Is it play? Maybe. Who can say, outside of the world of squirrels, what's play and what's survival. One of the two leaps to the branch of a tree as the other continues to sprint along the fence. Then, both are gone, as if the show were cancelled by the network and the screen now fuzzy with static memory. #smallstories

“The mountain pretends not to know what it did. At sunrise, it looks perfectly innocent, as if it had chewed my shoe and now it wants to go for a walk.”

-- from Look Alive Out There, by Sloane Crosley, page 113

#smallquotes