accurate statements with your host, sam.
i am a celebrity and it is strange. kate and sal have a great baby whom i met for the first time on the skype machine. i have a great new haricut that makes me look like velma kelly mixed with george eliot. the beatles are a very enjoyable musical space. i think anne carson is a lot over the top. a letter that evelyn wrote me will be opened in three weeks and i remember so clearly standing in my kitchen when she gave it to me this time last year and thinking: i’ll never make it to feb 15, 2011. poetry isn’t poem or words at all. i look nice in lipstick and i don’t think wearing or not wearing lipstick makes one less or more of a woman. jane lynch is a woman of dreams. i’d really like eric swanson and i to exchange poems but i think he’s a very busy person. sarah kate is having her baby in less than a month. erika makes me real insane but i can’t help but love her; i think she feels the same about me (or i hope she does; it’s a nice feeling). vendors on the busses here sell crazy holographic nature and animal tableaux and i have been regretting not buying this amazing portrait of two cute kittens that i saw when i was coming home from surabaya last time. i can’t wait to be in heather’s arms in california, though i don’t know if she knows it will happen. !!!!! i prefer fried tempeh to fried chicken. we have a new chicken in the family that is the biggest spaz in indonesia. five a.m. now constitutes as “sleeping in.” my coffee from sumatra is finished and i am woebegone. i am getting sick of the four bras i brought to this country and wish i had brought more black pants. diana is real smart, so is lauren, and both are self-deprecating, like me sometimes. i am enjoying the beatles but wish i had the white album with me; the beatles remind me of the reservation and maggie (lindamood) in the best way, but isn’t it crazy how we did that stuff together and now we’re living basically opposite lives? my host dad is great and he has told me the following stories at least three times, and always in one sitting in the same order with the same inflection and progression of ideas: his older brother was old and very incompetent at almost everything but could still thread the eye of a needle to fix a hole in his shirt; his grandmother got to be so old that her toothless gums grew a new set of teeth; his grandfather never ate or drank anything hot, even coffee: he’d make coffee at night to drink in the morning, coffee in the morning to drink in the afternoon, and coffee in the afternoon to drink in the evening; his grandmother diligently spread rice on bamboo mats to fan for him (the grandfather) so it would cool down and he could eat; his grandfather once walked from here to solo to see the king in the palace, a two hour drive up and over mount lawu, and he did it without bringing any money because he knew people would just give him food. he gave me a new one today: he fasted throughout ibu mama’s pregnancies because it’s tradition—or at least used to be—for fathers-to-be to fast so that their babies will have success. we had so much rain today that water splashed through the holes in the bottom of the angkota and got my shoes wet; i had to take my shoes off and plod through inches of water to get home but i loved it. i’ve just seen a face, i can’t forget the time or place where we just met. i have big, big plans for my life and it will be great, though i’m not exactly sure what’s next. boy howdy, i miss al reed and shakin’ it up with ladies in town. i looked at some great pictures of my burlesque friend scarlett and got all loopy for home. school supplies are incredibly cheap and high-quality in this country: i think i’ll bring home a suitcase full of this one specific pen and write with them for the rest of my life. it’s bedtime; i’ve been writing for fifteen minutes and i’ve gotten this far since i started and i think it’s enough. please forgive me. i have been devoting a lot of brain space to other, more-important-at-this-juncture activities and cannot take the time to write something normal but i bet you’re enjoying yourself. i’ll leave you with a fairly accurate statement about what these more-important activities involve: glee, poetry, research, lesson planning, daydreaming, sending text messages, putting on lipstick, drinking coffee. xo. sam.
the accidental haiku of mr. maryono (my brain is old)
my brain is old