pink pig

My sympathy goes out to Rhonda Douglas whose brother passed away this week in Newfoundland.

We went to St. Roch School, pronouncing it like Saint Rock, and were told how kind and gentle he was, meanwhile learning that ejaculations were going to get us to heaven one day. Well, how were we to know that was true? But we also got to put stars on the outline of a pumpkin if we were good, or a Christmas tree, and got a start at reading Latin, always a plus, seriously! so Rock, you’re still my guy. But memory, how it can fill in when you need it…so a parrot poem gets a last line that says:

one day she’s going to ask for gold stars.

daily poem:

lost (two)

or life as too important to ever talk seriously about, whether he played from memory the whole set of. your reach should exceed your grasp; no, or just put on a smile and sunglasses mr. brazeau the fine stitched spiderweb, zone of diamonds, morgan’s brother and other campbells, what else is heaven for. back then i said anyone could start a church. we could. let’s start the pink pig church. she looked at me quizzically, sun on a wide honda dash; schubert.

Why have I inserted a photo of Austrian Niko Alm? It’s just a strange coincidence. I wrote the lost (two) poem yesterday, which mentions the Pink Pig Church, saved it for today’s bog, then read of Austrian Niko Alm on facebook. The photo was from his driver’s licence, and he has a colander on his head. For two years he fought to have this image on a valid driver’s license, spaghetti strainer worn for religious purposes. He claims to support the church of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, a joke religion conjured up by atheists who say their make-believe stories are no better or worse than any traditional church’s. Austrian citizens are only allowed to wear headgear in state IDs for religious purposes, so Alm, a Spaghetti Monster “pastafarian,” argued that a colander is his “religious headgear.” I remember talking to my young friend about starting the Pink Pig Church (memory again stirring itself into a poem). It was part of a larger conversation, but really, what religious headgear would we have chosen?

From Northern Lights (The Fire Sermon)
–Andrew Hughes

I saw this poem on facebook, a link from Amanda’s blog, Poetry Talk with Amanda Earl. Like Amanda, I also like Andrew Hughes’ couplets. Not only does one run into the other, (to make a sort of sense) but if you look at a couplet just by itself, it’s open-ended and can go anywhere.

name. I never learned to dice.
How you spoke from books paralyzed

See new link: Noö WEEKLY:  Mike Young puts up new material every few weeks or so; he uses Guest Editors and the content seems fresh, and not always from the same point of view. A brilliant idea….