SATURDAY MORNING SURVEY
Raise your hand if you love this dog. Put it up in the air. Now. No one's watching.
posted by kc @ 11:03 AM
8 comments
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Raise your hand if you love this dog. Put it up in the air. Now. No one's watching.
8 Comments:
Mine's up.
Actually she looks like she's about to raise hers, too.
Oh, Mabel. There's just nothing cute about you, is there?
(Kidding, you little darling.)
though having never met Mabel, I vote without hesitation. The eyes say it all.
Yes, Molly is the undisputed SUPERBITCH now.
But you should have seen Mabel when she was Molly's age. She's damn lucky she didn't end up in an orphanage.
This song reminds me of Mabel:
Sadie, white coat,
carry me home.
Bury this bone,
take this pinecone.
Bury this bone
to gnaw on it later; gnaw on the telephone.
'Till then, we pray & suspend
the notion that these lives do never end.
And all day long we talk about mercy:
lead me to water lord, I sure am thirsty.
Down in the ditch where I nearly served you,
up in the clouds where he almost heard you
And all that we built,
and all that we breathed,
and all that we spilt, or pulled up like weeds
is piled up in back;
it burns irrevocably.
(we spoke up in turns,
'till the silence crept over me)
Bless you
and I deeply do
no longer resolute
and I call to you
But the water go so cold,
and you do lose
what you don't hold.
This is an old song,
these are old blues.
This is not my tune,
but it's mine to use.
And the seabirds
where the fear once grew
will flock with a fury,
and they will bury what'd come for you
Down where I darn with the milk-eyed mender
you and I, and a love so tender,
is stretched-on the hoop where I stitch-this adage:
"Bless this house and its heart so savage."
And all that I want, and all that I need
and all that I've got is scattered like seed.
And all that I knew is moving away from me.
(and all that I know is blowing
like tumbleweed)
And the mealy worms
in the brine will burn
in a salty pyre,
among the fauns and ferns.
And the love we hold,
and the love we spurn,
will never grow cold
only taciturn.
And I'll tell you tomorrow.
Sadie, go on home now.
Bless those who've sickened below;
bless us who've chosen so.
And all that I've got
and all that I need
I tie in a knot
that I lay at your feet.
I have not forgot,
but a silence crept over me.
(So dig up your bone,
exhume your pinecone, my sadie)
Billy, you are Mabel's favorite person in the whole world.
Hardly. Haha. I am going to guess that honor goes to you, oh food-bearing one.
I’ve been raising my hand every day when I come to your blog and see this post, I just hadn’t mentioned it yet.
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