Bug funeral

There’s a space at the end of my bed

                Sometimes I sit and collect

The dead bugs that were trapped under the lampshade

I wonder how long they sat there, quietly dissolving down

the unforgiving funeral carpet

white and emotionless underneath them

oh they wanted light and day and warmth

but these pleasant comforts of the home

translate

a minefield

the hard lines of a roof, black and steep

the plastics, cottons, metals,

overflowing, oozing out of the windows like a runny nose

where is wisdom

oh would she say of me now?

Filling up on my plastics, on my cold abode

What is raw, what is unrefined, unmanufactured

Give me that and be free. Oh forgive my vanity

I say, as I pick their delicate wings

Motionless, forgettable,

Burying them in my white plastic trashcan

                With the receipts and the packaging

The start of bad poetry

Blood to your brain should drain your refrain
You should have no excuse for life
why not embrace, get every taste
You can try to fit on your tongue
sit in the coffee shop with the evening clang
of mugs and espresso breath
and write more bad poetry~she says
the little tick in your brain, leaves you impatient
and never tolerant. You bend to winds of your own internal battle
bloodied and scarred

The moment you feel frightened of eye contact and gazing souls
you wished you could be called comfortable in your own
scaly skin ,crusty and dry
your prickly tongue
interrupts your thoughts
indian buffet : regurgitating and acidic
secondly, tasting
lastly breathing

Will your brain grow to fit your desires
the pull on the less intelligent
but intensely inclined
Memories and interactions stored
in deep recesses of tissue
to call them by name and reconnect them
the moment you want
called dreaming

Ironic Head Injuries

(I apologize if this post is rather boring, but I will continue to shamelessly use my concussed-head as my excuse).

Many of you may have heard of my recent bike accident, but I felt some corrections and explanations were needed. Two weeks ago I collided with another bicyclist in the tunnel underneath Blue Course drive in which both directions take you down a nice hill and around a rather cloudy turn. I was, unfortunately, not wearing a helmet at this time and found myself on the comfy surrounding concrete. From what I have gathered, the man whom I hit was also taken to the hospital but he suffered only minor injuries as he was wearing a helmet (sign of a. intelligence and b. appropriate appreciation of that intelligence).  I have not learned his identity but hope to do so. Most frustrating to me, besides my supposed ironies surrounding this accident which I will explain later, is that I cannot remember a single detail from the accident. Literally nothing. Actually I barely remember biking at all that morning (though I do remember making that erroneous decision). Sometimes I imagine some unknown shiny object must have stolen my attention, but I think it’s perfectly reasonable to think that we both may have inched closer to the center of the bike path rather than staying on our side like trustworthy citizens.

Our collision resulted in a skull fracture and an epidural hematoma in the head of yours truly (plus a few other minor injuries I won’t bore you with). An epidural hematoma is a buildup of blood between the dura mater around the brain and skull, which according to wikipedia can be pretty dangerous . So when full body scans at Mount Nittany Medical Center made this apparent (and I could finally take that annoying neck brace off)  I was sent to Danville to ensure the epidural hematoma was stable as they thought.  At Danville I was in the care of six (literally) doctors and was lucky enough to still have a working brain and require no surgery. While at the hospital I was only interested in sleeping as much as possible and was remotely excited when after a day I was moved off a broth/jello diet to some “real” hospital food, which ladies and gentlemen does in fact terribly disappoint. Also word to the wise, do NOT eat the jello if you’re on pain meds. After two days of waking me up every couple hours to make sure I knew where I was, they concluded I was fine to go home.

The coincidences surrounding this accident are rather ironically striking to me. First, I had intended on riding the bus to work that morning. In my mind, a nice quiet morning with some strong coffee would inevitably make me tireless and eloquent with the dreaded job applications/cover letters/etc so I planned to catch the 7:20 and go to Websters.  As I so often do, I could not wake myself up in time to catch the bus and decided I had to take my mother’s bike to work to get there in time.

Enter exhibit A. Look at that beauty I destroyed. 

Second, for the past week I had lent out my bike and my helmet to a friend who had no other means of getting to a short-term  (2 weeks) job and would be riding in much more traffic than I.  I always advocate for the use of bicycles for commuting and was happy she would be able to get to work this way.  During that past week , I had been occasionally taking my Mother’s vintage cruiser to work, which I really really loved.  This bike was surprisingly light and fast and although it pains me to admit it, I also thought to myself I couldn’t bear the look of wearing a helmet with the cruiser. Though I still do stubbornly  stand by the decision that my helmet was better used with her as collisions with cars are much more frequent and dangerous than other bicyclists, and I can get to work almost entirely by bike path (also, bus :(

And lastly, as part of my job I help coordinate the State College Bicycle Ambassador Program, which advocates for bicycle commuting, safety, and share-the-road practices.  This is a volunteer program that hopes to build community support for bicyclists and teach safe and legal riding techniques.  This program stems out of a Borough goal to increase alternative transportation in State College and lower greenhouse gas emissions. As I prepared materials and researched State laws and local ordinances, I truly realized the importance of wearing a helmet and other safety precautions.  For about two months at the beginning of my job last year (August and September) I had been occasionally bike riding without a helmet.  Once the Mayor saw me ride in without one, she really encouraged me to buy one and gave me the extra push I needed.  Plus when the Mayor tells you you should do something, you pretty much should listen.  So from about last September on I had been commuting with a helmet and was truly a believer and advocate for them and bicycle safety.  I felt I could not honestly fulfill my role for the Bicycle Ambassador Program unless I was living out these guidelines myself (now is an appropriate time to shake your head).


Well, that last line really does give me a chuckle.  I can’t be sure of the reasons behind the accident, but I was in full control to protect my brain and chose not to.  A friend just told me today she shudders now when seeing a bicyclist riding without a helmet, and I have to agree.  It only takes one time to make the difference, as I have most humbly demonstrated.  While there are many risks in life (and riding a bike is one of the most enjoyable and most environmentally-responsible risks you can take)  whatever minimization to that risk you can do while bike riding is perhaps now more of a religious belief for me than anything.  Don’t ride at night without a light.  Don’t ride down one way streets the wrong way.  Don’t ever come up with a reason not to wear a helmet.  Perhaps lucky isn’t the right term, but whatever forces were at work I am fortunate to be here today and it is of no result of my own actions.  

You can be sure of my future actions, however, when in short time I’ll jump back onto the bicycle a. wearing a helmet b. harassing everyone else to too.

First day on the blog

I have finally succumbed quite suddenly to the urge to start a blog. Initial postings will be related to bad poetry I've had several years habit of writing in the hopes it will encourage more frequent and sophisticated writing. I also have the feeling I will rant and rave about topics I know very little about but am ever curious.  I hope someone finds the words exciting enough to read, and perhaps we can all learn a little bit along the way!

Bon voyage!