Wednesday, July 22, 2009
A Cougher's Lament
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Kinds of Glass
- Martin
- Nathan
- Anne Carson’s penchant
to quote the Big G
__________
Can you figure what/who they are?
Friday, July 10, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Your & Our Sentences
—as a book title.
I pardon you all,
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
It's Been Close to 6 Months
Won’t change the title of the blog
because: a) like Moby-Dick, all the
actions take place on the whaling ship
or more closely, the metaphor of a
huge vessel and we, as readers,
are seduced into the motions of
the vastness of the Sea-Words,
or b) like watching MTV’s
The Real World, can we be
certain the participants are in a
particular city they claim to be?;
most of the real actions take
place in rooms in a house—
confessional rooms where the
most private thinking unwinds
and is vocalized to the viewers.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Aurora

Hola ’miga. We were mates in HS together
and you still take pleasure in calling me
“Frijol” (btw, this is a graduated step, I suppose,
from “Binh-ner” of middle school days). Here,
Classy Gal, here is my response with my arms
in the air, Ayyy, Yai Yai!
Oh yes, let me take this space
to send you (and your hubs) many
many KUDOS! I hope you kept your last name
for the open invitation to Tell-ria.
Well, since I initiated
the What’s In a Name?
You know "Binh"
is my “real” name. But at home, I’m known
as “Bo” (pronounced "ball"
but w/o the l’s).
When I was in grades school here in the States,
“Binh” came in. And since Binh and
Nguyen are fairly common names
in parts
of the world, I added my DOB to distinguish
my e-address name from others.
Plus, the Vietnamese
pronunciation and certain
lexicon differ from other regions in VN. My
first name is a cross between “trash bin” and
“Ben Franklin”. But for regional (i.e. Ha Noi)
vocalization it’d be “bing”
while in Sai Gon or Ho Chi Minh City
it’d be, like, “bun”). Whew! All of this:
merely because we scratched the surface.
Now fill us in with your observations—
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Ms Swank
Ross Elementary. Fifth grade. 1993.
Our sessions lasted about an hour a day.
We shared the room with Mr. Graham’s
and sat on the side. I wasn’t used to
writing in pencil but being with you
taught me to accustom myself to that.
Tho I did it many nights following
my first class—I should have known
that boys don’t do what I did. I still
remember the blubber smell of
your body—but I excuse that fact
now since you were one who first
taught me American English after all.
