Little Projects

Okay - so at first glance maybe this doesn't do much for you. It's a little hard to make out. But what you're seeing is an amazing, albeit half-finished, project. On the right, you can see at least four of Rocky's treasures, including two bones, a favorite stick, and a frog toy (just to the left of the rightmost bone) that he found in the park.

Dead center in the photo is a hole. For the record, holes are really hard to shoot. I promise it's there.

Rocky had big plans here, and he was very careful as he proceeded, as shown by the delicate (for someone with no thumbs) arrangement of the artifacts around the hole. I'll bet that he's discussing his plans for this hole with his buddies at Southern Animal Foundation as I write this.


And here we have an Abbie project, more or less complete. Abbie works in mysterious ways. I'm pretty sure she arranged these dropped petals while she was talking on the phone, probably unconsciously. It's nice to live with someone who beautifies things as she goes along.

Florida is lovely so far. Hot.

And here's a poem for my brother. And for you.



At the Gym



This salt-stain spot
marks the place where men
lay down their heads,
back to the bench,

and hoist nothing
that need be lifted
but some burden they've chosen
this time: more reps,

more weight, the upward shove
of it leaving, collectively,
this sign of where we've been:
shroud-stain, negative

flashed onto the vinyl
where we push something
unyielding skyward,
gaining some power

at least over flesh,
which goads with desire,
and terrifies with frailty.
Who could say who's

added his heat to the nimbus
of our intent, here where
we make ourselves:
something difficult

lifted, pressed or curled,
Power over beauty,
power over power!
Though there's something more

tender, beneath our vanity,
our will to become objects
of desire: we sweat the mark
of our presence onto the cloth.

Here is some halo
the living made together.


Mark Doty