Facing the River by Czesław Miłosz

A Meadow

It was a riverside meadow, lush, from before the hay harvest,
On an immaculate day in the sun of June.
I searched for it, found it, recognized it.
Grasses and flowers grew there familiar in my childhood.
With half-closed eyelids I absorbed luminescence.
And the scent garnered me, all knowing ceased.
Suddenly, I felt I was disappearing and weeping with joy.



Day 23: #TheSealeyChallenge

Delights & Shadows by Ted Kooser

Telescope

This is the pipe that pierces the dam
that holds back the universe,

that takes off some of the pressure,
keeping the weight of the unknown

from breaking through
and washing us all down the valley.

Because of this small tube,
through which a cold light rushes

from the bottom of time,
the depth of the stars stays always constant

and we are able to sleep, at least for now,
beneath the straining wall of darkness.



Day 21: #TheSealeyChallenge

BLUE 4 U by Nicholas Teixeira

surreal suicide
savior complex

remembering Stanley
after lola falana on tms

earth control to birth control, who
has invited us in to skip her for what
a professor lucked out in for landing?
computer door to my baby, macaboy

island closed, your handsome voice
left with the burden of your body. you
were meant for me, and i was meant for you

fresh off your chronicled boat, as space

angels led me to you out on fire island.





Day 14: #TheSealeyChallenge

Hunky Dory 40 years later

All the strangers came today

Hunky Dory is the first album I owned by David Bowie. At the time, I would have preferred it to be Let’s Dance, but I couldn’t convince my mom to buy it for me on just any ol’ day. So, it was something I was waiting to receive on my birthday, which was months away.

I had $4 saved up and was looking through the “bargain basement” cassette tapes at the new drugstore in town.

I remember the store’s grand opening, drawing the salt-of-the-earth townspeople with free soda, hotdogs, and balloons filled with helium, not just plain air and put on a long white plastic stick to make it look like it was floating.

In the bargain bin, which was literally a bin you had to dig through, I found Hunky Dory, an album released by Bowie in 1971. It was 1983 and the cassette was $1.99. I bought it. I listened. I thought, “This is terrible. I can’t believe I spent my savings on this.” I was afraid of the music, but I kept listening.

Then my assessment ratcheted up from “terrible” to “strange.” The music was coming from a place I didn’t understand. It made me feel new kinds of feelings. It gave me the intuition that life could be more interesting than a free balloon, if I wanted it to be.

Before I knew it, Hunky Dory was the best thing ever. When I eventually received Let’s Dance for my birthday, I loved it immediately, of course. However, in the 40 years since then, I’ve listened to Hunky Dory much, much, much more often.

"Retrospectively, Hunky Dory has been critically acclaimed as one of Bowie's best works, and features on several lists of the greatest albums of all time. Within the context of his career, it is considered to be the album where ‘Bowie starts to become Bowie’, definitively discovering his voice and style.”

The album did the same for me.

Jennifer Hasegawa