The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,400 times in 2013. If it were a cable car, it would take about 40 trips to carry that many people.
No more
excuses left—
Saint Paul here she comes now
riding the Green Line LRT
at last.
Flashing
red and white light
above wild clay cliffs
will fade to memory without
rescue.
Two days into shrinking
night, photos get touch
screen silently taken
in the clouds. Who visits
the creation museum? A myth
is born. A 25-year-old
portrait painting comes alive
in a child’s arms. This rip
in the canvas
is an evolution.
A ladder
back chair will
not push her
to hit a glass
ceiling with the tip
of her tongue. Without progressive
lenses, she can see
how life unfolds
in phases
of another
planet’s moon. Or two.
Architects toss out the best
words—another
year passes
successfully inside
a found poem.
A week across
the border—no
turning back and
all other clichés
come true
beneath a mistletoe
she doesn’t
stand beneath. Her kisses
are not
parasites. Her infatuation
gets nourished
from within.
He sees
structure in her
she might destroy again
without his voice’s midnight calm
to soothe.
Diamond dust drifts
vertically through air. Sun
dogs will wag
their tails to defy
her resignation
to frown on these shrunken
days. Sixteen more
before they begin
to expand again. Who
needs a float?
Even getting to Q
would be more
than she imagined. More than
she could taste
when she licks
stamps for those envelopes
filled with naïve
dreams. Some evaporate
for good without a trace. Others
come true
for a while before turning
into nightmares. And some
hold other positions
in the alphabet
she can’t make out yet.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 