You know I spend a good deal of time reading the lefty blogs and I don't think I've read a word about the arrival of spring. I suspect that illustrates a good part of the problem with political people, all too many seem to be entirely disconnected from the natural world. Not just political people. Just about everybody. The problems that logically ensue. the damage that is done... incalculable.
Nevertheless, it's here. Spring is here and the earth is singing. Get out there and listen. That's my humble advice. Soon it will be oppressive summer with its mosquitoes, spiderwebs, humidity and such. Get out now while you can.
You see? I'm enthused. So fucking enthused I'll leave you with a poem, a Rimbaud poem no less. Can't have springtime without a sappy poem, no? I think this one is an apt metaphor for springtime in NYC:
As from a green zinc coffin, a woman’s
Head with brown hair heavily pomaded
Emerges slowly and stupidly from an old bathtub,
With bald patches rather badly hidden;
Then the fat gray neck, broad shoulder-blades
Sticking out; a short back which curves in and bulges;
Then the roundness of the buttocks seems to take off;
The fat under the skin appears in slabs:
The spine is a bit red; and the whole thing has a smell
Strangely horrible; you notice especially
Odd details you’d have to see with a magnifying glass…
The buttocks bear two engraved words: CLARA VENUS;
—And that whole body moves and extends its broad rump
Hideously beautiful with an ulcer on the anus.
You'll thank me for that. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday and for at least a few minutes. Happy spring!
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