Poem Spam.

Coda
by Mark Perlberg

--for my mother

When I was six or seven
you stopped singing
as you moved about the house
as you dressed for evening

I'll see you again whenever
spring breaks through again
Time will lie heavy between

Remember the night

You played the piano
a piece with vivid Spanish
figures

I recall the fringed peach shall
on the polished mahogany
When did you learn to play
you must have spent hours practicing
Why did you stop singing

If I had thought to ask
these questions when I was older
could you have found a way
to answer

Career fair?

I always knew that going to my flist for job advice would be...


( interesting )

Art - Photography.

Periodically I'm reminded of how much I love to take pictures. This morning was another prime example. karotsamused was allowed conventional means of recording her latest performance art piece, and since she said the images were good I thought I'd toss them up here.

I'll leave the actual commentary on the images to Karot.

( feet. )

( hips. )

( head and hands. )

( the whole. )

And then two for myself when I was killing the roll of film.

( coming home. )

( reflection. )

The last image even inspired an ( icon. )