the/my traditional new year’s poem. it’s a translation of mandelstam from a very academic anthology. i don’t have the anthology in my apartment (i don’t believe) and somehow i cannot find the poem in my email anywhere. (the first line is ‘Where can I hide in January?’ so presumably it was about persecutions! but i found it as a teenager and most of it applied.) (most of it applies most universally! but the line ‘this town is as open as chain links’, i realize, suddenly does not. for baltimore it would be more like: ‘this town is overly friendly,/ so friendly it makes me uncomfortable,/ so friendly i can taste its fear and desperation.’)
while searching frustratedly for mandelstam my father’s wife texted me pictures of my father in the hospital! according to custom! her unsettling, inappropriate as hell custom! yayyyy. plus ça change auld lang syne.