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Dangerous Compassions

in which I compare myself to OG Milton without mentioning the fall of man

I was talking to Ming about Milton, because I was talking about writers who go blind.  “You know what Milton did?” “Who?” “Milton.  You know, the one with the collar,” I said.  “John Milton?” “John Stewart Milton?” Ming asked. “I don’t think so…” I said.  “John Stewart, like the daily show?  No, different white guy. … Read More »

Categories
Dangerous Compassions

all this light

Ming’s birthday yesterday, I had a lot of feelings.  I asked him beforehand what his expectations were, and I forgot to ask myself.  Oops.  Didn’t know I’d cry because my mom is dead.  She was never that involved with Ming’s birthday.  But doing all the important things with her on the other side feels so… Read More »

Categories
Dangerous Compassions

old old fashioned

I really liked Frightened Rabbit for a time.  This song, my friend put it on a mix for me, years ago.  Nice accent, nice tone, smart words, lots of feelings. I thought of it because I like the whole idea of clearing the room of furniture to dance, doing it like they did in ’43. … Read More »

Categories
Dangerous Compassions

give yourself grace

Happy to be alive, this spring.  Thank God for the new year. We helped our close friend move.  He is gone, northward pointed, and has much of his stuff stored here.  So I think we’ll see him again.  It was quite a push. We gardened.   Put in some special lavender that grows well here, Goodwin… Read More »

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Dangerous Compassions

I invite you to love my disabled self also

The other day, I met my friend at the park.  My friend brought their little doggie.  The doggie seemed sweet. “I don’t have energy this morning,” my friend told me.  They explained they hadn’t taken their testosterone.  They said it was just laziness, that they’d take it when they returned home. I don’t know how… Read More »

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Dangerous Compassions

yellow flowers

Our friend’s kale bolted. We sat on the couch in his backyard, talking for hours, eating lunch.  He was wearing his R2-D2 socks.  “That’s the droid I’m looking for,” Ming said.  We talked about R2-D2’s personality.  His squat loyal snarkiness foiling C3PO and C3PO’s fear. A hummingbird came to sip nectar and dart away.  We… Read More »

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Dangerous Compassions

heyoka

Some bit of advice someone gave me, 15 years ago, I still remember and consider.  When Ming and I moved in together in North Oak Park, the previous tenant had left behind some shampoo, in the cabinet under the kitchen sink, which I used to wash my hair.  A friend who dumpster dived a lot… Read More »

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Dangerous Compassions

competitive religion

“Are you going to turn Quaker?” I asked Ming.  “Do you need another religion?” He looked at me from over the newspapery newsletter he held in his hands. “If you had three religions, and I only had two religions, you would be winning,” I said. “I would be what?” he asked, turning pages. “You would… Read More »

Categories
Dangerous Compassions

seeds

My mood fluctuates.  My belief in humanity fluctuates.  My ability to spell fluctuates fluctuates.  I wanna put an x in it, of course. This is new growth on the palo verde tree we planted at the end of last year’s Sacred Peace Walk.  I like the red. We’re going to get some soil.  I wanna… Read More »

Categories
Dangerous Compassions

spring song

At the garden, we bought tomatillos, basil, a tomato, a mild hatch chili, a cilantro.  It was fun to walk around and see the garden beds.  Tons of aphids had infested the cruciferous veg, but ladybugs had come to eat them. Ming also took a berry cane, to plant here, and I took a sprig… Read More »