The Seals are Dying

From the sea
to keep the land
they line them
heavy as sandbags
black as oil spills
carcasses
on the shore.

The agency sait
it would kill

Infect, forget
they claw
scratch
at another throat.

Waves green
just beneath their eyes.
Their barks:
monstrous sounds.

Important question: who is the Jenny McKean Moore writer in residence next year. I know Loren told me the guy's name but I don't remember it.

In other news: poetry poetry poetry no air conditioning charlottesville tofu poetry poetry poetry.

Quotations that I thought would inspire me, but instead they didn't

Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don't want to die.
-- Sylvia Plath.

Count it ten thousand trees ago,
five houses and ten thousand trees,
since the swallows exploded from Bowman Tower
over the place where the hermit sang,
while I held a fantail of squirming roots
that kissed the palm of my dirty hand,
as if in reply to a bird.
-- Stanley Kunitz

But to say what you want to say, you must create another language and nourish it for years and years with what you have loved, with what you have lost, with what you will never find again
-- George Seferis

Look for me another day
I feel that I could change.
I feel that I could change.
-- The Innocence Mission