Compared to the pain Tsugumi gives me, this is nothing at all

Everyone gets annoyed about something at least once a day, me included. But I noticed there was something I did whenever this happened to me - that there was a sentence I would start chanting over and over deep down inside, like a sort of Buddhist chant, without even realizing that I was doing it. Compared to the pain Tsugumi gives me, this is nothing at all. It seemed that during the years I spent with Tsugumi, my body had come to understand in a hazy sort of way that, in the end, getting worked up really doesn't take you anywhere. And there was something else that I understood as I stared into the orange light of the gradually darkening sky - something that made me feel sort of like I wanted to cry.

Excerpt from Goodbye Tsugumi by Banana Yoshimoto translated from the Japanese by Michael Emmerich.

Rereading a favorite Yoshimoto book this sunny afternoon. This story has always been poignant, but recent events has made this even more true. Sitting here I can imagine Tsugumi's response to my musings, probably something along the lines of , "God you're a moron! Keep your mouth shut unless you've got something worth saying." Gallant, wise, and surprisingly unpleasant, Tsugumi is one of my literary heros.

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The best way to eat squid is to catch it first

best if you pull it out of the dripping net yourself,
a gift you didn’t ask for among the ordinary
bone-filled catch you did, and the purple sea-stars, inedible
bad luck you didn’t deserve.
Next to eat squid you waste a fire
To coals, nestling the flaccid bodies
Into the earth for as long as it takes, usually
long. Finally you may eat the small charred
legs, one by one, working your way
to the ink-filled heart. This is a shared
humiliation, and at this stage you are obliged
to press your lips to any nearby lover,
mark him as indelibly as you can.

Suzanne Matson "Squid"

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a wedding in a field-the old saying:

 it's good luck to be seen from a train dressed in white, you must be looking the other way, so many things work only if you're looking away. A woman in a field is walking away.
Gardens early in the evening. Trees
planted a few hundred years ago to line a road no longer there
. The water is pale teal, light, field after field. Spire, steeple, sea

of trees that line roads long disappeared along with their houses, which were
great houses in their time.

Cole Swensen from "Five Landscapes Two"

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To have picked up my heavy hem and run

To have been age enough.
To have been leg enough.
Been enough bold. Said no.
Been a girl grown into that
negative construction. Or said yes
on condition of a dress. To be yours
if my skirts skimmed the floors.
To have demanded each seam
celestial, appealed for planetary pleats.
And when you saw the sun a sequin,
the moon a button shaped from glass,
and in the stars a pattern
for a dress, when the commission
proved too minute, and the frocks
hung before me like hosts,
to have stood then at the edge
of the wood, heard a hound’s bark
and my heart hark in return.
To have seen asylum in the scruffs
of neck—mink, lynx, ocelot, fox,
Kodiak, ermine, wolf—felt a claw
curve over my sorrow then. Said yes
on condition of a dress. To be yours
if my skirts skimmed the floors.

-Stacy Gnall excerpt from "Self-Portrait as Thousandfurs"

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