52/240-241: Baking

[rejectomorph]

Having succeeded in dragging my decrepit carcass through more days, I continue to endure the discomforts, irritations, micro-scares of decay, and partly assuage them with a donut, a beer, a cup of tea, a music video, a poem, what comes to hand or eye or tongue or ear. It's a life, sort of. But I find what's left of my brain wants none of this, and wanders off on its own, like Tom o'Bedlam, begging the bac-o-bits of fantasy. Upon a time I was able to haul that fantasy, or a semblance of it, at least in part, into what most of the world chooses to call reality. Here, as it were. These days I'm not sure I even escape this reality when my mind wanders. If I do, then I've been unable to bring anything back when I return. But I suspect that my mind simply abandons me, impatient as it has become with quotidian materialism. My consciousness thus feels sundered, merely existing where it lives, and only living where it can't exist. Oh, conundrums do annoy me.

But I'm baking a cake mix. Soon I will have cake. That will distract me. Perhaps I will be pleased. For a while.




Sunday Verse

Bats' Ultrasound

by Les Murray


Sleeping-bagged in a duplex wing
with fleas, in rock-cleft or building
radar bats are darkness in miniature,
their whole face one tufty crinkled ear
with weak eyes, fine teeth bared to sing.

Few are vampires. None flit through the mirror.
Where they flutter at evening's a queer
tonal hunting zone above highest C.
Insect prey at the peak of our hearing
drone re to their detailing tee:

ah, eyrie-ire, aero hour, eh?
O'er our ur-area (our era aye
ere your raw row) we air our array,
err, yaw, row wry - aura our orrery,
our eerie ü our ray, our arrow.

A rare ear, our aery Yahweh.

Comments

[rafqa]

You write so lucidly; I'm sorry you feel so unmoored.

You introduced me to Tom O'Bedlam. Enjoy the cake.

[rejectomorph]

Thanks. The cake turned out pretty good, even though it was just a store-bought mix (Betty Crocker spice cake.) It needs no frosting, which is a good thing. I've still got a couple of slices I'll eat later, unless the hag or hungry goblin show up and need to be distracted with it so they won't rag on me.