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Tonight, I read this poem, and because I am very tired, I chose my inspiration from it. Sometimes inspiration is our choice. Maybe it always is, I don’t know. But I do know that tonight was a night where I had to go to the muses, and not the other way round.

“Let Me Tell You What A Poem Brings“, by Juan Felipe Herrera :

Let Me Tell You What a Poem Brings


for Charles Fishman

Before you go further,
let me tell you what a poem brings,
first, you must know the secret, there is no poem
to speak of, it is a way to attain a life without boundaries,
yes, it is that easy, a poem, imagine me telling you this,
instead of going day by day against the razors, well,
the judgments, all the tick-tock bronze, a leather jacket
sizing you up, the fashion mall, for example, from
the outside you think you are being entertained,
when you enter, things change, you get caught by surprise,
your mouth goes sour, you get thirsty, your legs grow cold
standing still in the middle of a storm, a poem, of course,
is always open for business too, except, as you can see,
it isn’t exactly business that pulls your spirit into
the alarming waters, there you can bathe, you can play,
you can even join in on the gossip—the mist, that is,
the mist becomes central to your existence.

“Let Me Tell You What a Poem Brings” from Half of the World in Light: New and Selected Poems by Juan Felipe Herrera. Copyright © 2008 Juan Felipe Herrera. Reprinted by permission of the University of Arizona Press. This material is protected from unauthorized downloading and distribution.

Source: Half of the World in Light (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)



Also, tonight I’m listening to this:

Just in case you wondered.


(a little inside joke for my friend peanut).

Let me tell you

About white sails pale planes on a blue frame, while driving to work, birds of prey atop condominium aeries, anchored across bridges, and about the silent, crunching monday parking lot that opens into wide and curious grins, let me tell you. About the microwave heart smiles of daycare retrieval, about the gross and intimate dinner routine that give us structure, let me tell you. About the stories that open up on once upon a time, in a land far way, but end up in this upon a time, in this land, right now, let me tell you.

About the gifts of the day, about all the blue roses there’s something to be said for that, let me tell you.


That’s all I’ve got tonight. Just tapped out. ‘nough said. Happy Monday, you.