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[personal profile] lycomingst   Apr. 23rd, 2026 04:57 pm
Guys have been building a new fence around part of the mobile park. They finished at my place yesterday. It needed it, part of the old fence was hanging down leaving a gap. The blackberry vine that was clinging to the fence is just a small stump.

I really wanted to grow blackberries. They have some weird pattern of growing berries on the second year growth. I've tried to understand it by watching YT. Anyway, I cut a lot of it down previously and I think there were going to be flowers this year, then berries. Now nothing. But you can't kill blackberries, not without a nuclear option. So that plant will rise again. With its wicked, wicked thorns. You want berries, well berries cost. And right here is where you start paying…
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[personal profile] lycomingst   Apr. 15th, 2026 05:23 pm
I rented Fantastic Four. I don't have many feelings about it. I like Pedro Pascal; I liked the last fight. I didn't feel attached to any of the characters.

I bought a couple of tomato plants. Too early, like last year, but the danger of frost is over and I didn't want to wait till everything is picked over. I kind of stupidly want blueberry plants.

My space key is getting stuck at random and it's annoying.


Poetry.
The Heavy Bear Who Goes With Me
By Delmore Schwartz
“the withness of the body”

The heavy bear who goes with me,
A manifold honey to smear his face,
Clumsy and lumbering here and there,
The central ton of every place,
The hungry beating brutish one
In love with candy, anger, and sleep,
Crazy factotum, dishevelling all,
Climbs the building, kicks the football,
Boxes his brother in the hate-ridden city.

Breathing at my side, that heavy animal,
That heavy bear who sleeps with me,
Howls in his sleep for a world of sugar,
A sweetness intimate as the water’s clasp,
Howls in his sleep because the tight-rope
Trembles and shows the darkness beneath.
—The strutting show-off is terrified,
Dressed in his dress-suit, bulging his pants,
Trembles to think that his quivering meat
Must finally wince to nothing at all.

That inescapable animal walks with me,
Has followed me since the black womb held,
Moves where I move, distorting my gesture,
A caricature, a swollen shadow,
A stupid clown of the spirit’s motive,
Perplexes and affronts with his own darkness,
The secret life of belly and bone,
Opaque, too near, my private, yet unknown,
Stretches to embrace the very dear
With whom I would walk without him near,
Touches her grossly, although a word
Would bare my heart and make me clear,
Stumbles, flounders, and strives to be fed
Dragging me with him in his mouthing care,
Amid the hundred million of his kind,
The scrimmage of appetite everywhere.


Music Monday - Two Gallants

Despite What You've Been Told

.

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