I saw Gwen Ifil and Gail Collins
talking about feminism on public TV.
Brenda said when she was working as
a weaver’s apprentice for Edwina Bringle,
at Penland, she pictured herself sitting at a loom
with Owen lying nearby peacefully on a hand-hewn
blanket. She said once he was born her life was over.
Well, only for 25 years, because we wanted to have
a second one, so the first one could have a sibling.
Ifil and Collins talked about flexible schedules, chore-sharing,
the problem of affordable child care for working parents,
career-rigidity in the workplace. The Christian right.
The laissez-faire, profit-maximization employer.
Now, they exploit both family members
as employee and consumer.
Not double but quadruple.
Be careful what you wish for
you might get it. Pat Buchanan
gloating over Nixon. Those people
never go away and they never forget.
We are well and truly fucked.
Have you bought your airport reading?
Perhaps something Oprah mentioned.
If jazz is dead, what about letters?
Seen any beat poets lately?
One giant chain,
from coast to coast,
I think it’s wonderful.
It meant the end of
But…and—well: when’s the last time that
you saw a bull?