This poem is by William Carlos Williams and is called “Thursday.” It’s Saturday’s poem-a-day from Poets.org.
I have had my dream—like others—
and it has come to nothing, so that
I remain now carelessly
with feet planted on the ground
and look up at the sky—
feeling my clothes about me,
the weight of my body in my shoes,
the rim of my hat, air passing in and out
at my nose—and decide to dream no more.
********
Ouch. This is what Allen Ginsberg said to his class about it:
“So we’ve all been in the same place here as this poem? Maybe you haven’t lost all your dreams yet. You haven’t lost them. Just keep going. You’ll get there. You’ve got a couple of dreams left. […] Okay, so in this class, no dreams are allowed to be written as poems, except if you’re looking at them from the outside and saying, ‘That’s my dream?,’ except if you’re looking at it as kind of an object. Like [Williams] did, in a way.”
I haven’t lost my dreams yet. But they are not for me anymore. A lot of them are for Robin, Granddaughter #1. She’s a junior in HS this year and is starting to have some college thoughts. I guess what I have for her aren’t really dreams — they’re wishes, hopes. And they come with all the love this old heart can muster.
I was supposed to have a zoom meeting with a PA from Aetna, my health insurer. I had one last year and it was a complete waste of time. I only consented to waste my time again because they said they’d give me $50 to do it. Okay. So at 12:30 — the appointed hour — I set things up to zoom, even though I hadn’t gotten anything from them since it was set up and didn’t have the link yet. Good chance they would fuck up, amirite? So I waited till about 12:35. Still nothing — no text, no link, nothing. I closed up shop and had lunch. The next time I checked my email I saw they sent a link at 12:41 which, of course, I did not see in time. They did not call or text.
I replied to the email as follows:
“The link was sent eleven minutes after the meeting was to start. And I received nothing ahead of time.
“I set aside time for this. It should have been handled better.”
I got no response. It’s a good thing stuff like this doesn’t ruffle my feathers.
The Jets will kick off their 2026 season against Tennessee in a few weeks. Let’s note two historic achievements of the men in green from 2025. They were the first team in NFL history to go an entire season without intercepting a single pass from an opponent. The next lowest total last season was six, and the next lowest total ever was two, by the 2018 Niners. Second, the Jets were the first team in NFL history to lose five games in a row by margins of at least 23 points. Bravo, gentlemen!
Is this man the answer? New QB Geno Smith. Geno had some good years with Seattle. He turns 36 in a few weeks, and is just holding down the position until the Jets can draft their future QB out of college. Geno and his wife Hayley have a son whom they named Seven, Geno’s number.
This item falls both in our Brotherly Love and You Can’t Make This Stuff Up Departments. Grandson Raffi, 6, whom we love dearly, is our grandchild who gets into trouble far more often than the others. It’s, like, 700-3. He gets a certain gleam in his eyes and attacks his poor brother Isaac relentlessly. Izzy will be five soon, kinehora (for both). He responds with ear-shattering shrieks and fights back as best as he can until the cavalry arrives (Caity and/or Danny). And yet Friday when Linda and I were watching Izzy and Zoey (10) for a while, Izzy got a little bored (before we went for ice cream) and said: “I miss Raffi. I miss fighting with him.”
This shot is from around five years ago. Raffi is in Caity’s lap; Izzy’s the baby. Leon and Lianna (Robin) are holding hands, and ZoZo is the ray of sunshine in the center. I was walking to school up Lexington Avenue once and passed a shop with a sign that said: “Spend time with people who feel like sunshine.” I sent a shot of it to Caity with the caption: “Zoey.”
“Island of Arthurian legend” today was AVALON. Son Volt had a bunch of tunes for us on it. I liked these two. If you just have time or patience for one, go with Van.
For my wordplay from the puzzle, I worked on ATONAL, CIAO, and IGLOO. To wit,
How much do we wish you had beaten W in 2000? ATONAL
I paste, said Tom.
I tape, said Sally.
I staple, said Robert.
How about you, Panak?
IGLOO.
When you can finally say goodbye and go eat: CIAO time.
I got into a mild contretemps yesterday on Rex’s blog. It started when Rex commented as follows about DONNA SUMMER: “I had DONNA and the only famous DONNA I could think of (that fit) was SUMMER, so I just wrote her in.”
I casually mentioned in my post: It’s odd there aren’t more famous Donnas, as RP noted. The only other one that came to mind for me was Donna Reed from her (very) old TV show.
Anony Mouse chimed in: How about Donna Karan?
Or Richie Valens massive hit Donna?
Donna Dixon, Donna Shalala ( for those of you who lean blue) Donna Mills for those of us who were red-blooded boys in the 80s.
Strange to me that people think Rex has expertise outside of literatute or the puzzle.
Rex responded: None of those fit [six letters], but keep going…
And Mouse replied (to him): They fit Liveprof’s false claim .
Ouch! “False claim!!” That seemed like a gratuitous dig. My first reply did not address the charge (I hadn’t seen it yet) and was:
Anon: According to the Dictionary of Silly Words, the preferred spelling is “literatoot.” Also, Donna Shalala was the President of Hunter College (CUNY) when I started teaching there in 1986. I recall very fondly her welcoming us newcomers aboard. Thanks for the memory!
After seeing the dig, I replied again: Let’s not forget Bella and Ma. [Donnas] My (false) claim rests on my subjective view that the other Donnas, as worthy as they all are, for sure, are a notch down, fame-wise, from DONNA SUMMER. But surely YMMV as we like to say.
[YMMV stands for “your mileage may vary.”]
And that was the last word.
Here’s Shalala:
I do remember Donna Mills. What’s with all the water, Babe? You on some kind of diet?
The Gnats last night. Ugh. It was tight tight tight. The boys were nursing a one-run lead through the middles, and finally squeezed out an insurance run to take 2-0 into the ninth. Then, Oy — Beeter was effective for the 7th and 8th, but the wheels fell off the bus for Kranick and Cosgrove in the 9th and we lost 6-2. It was the 35th blown save this year — the most by far of any team, and only two shy of the all-time record. Oh, the ignominy! If they had just held on to ten of those leads, they’d be in the playoffs.
The front page of the Times today was just business-as-usual horrifying. Terrible abuses visited upon deportees and how DOJ found a way to funnel its outrageous cases through an obliging federal judge in Texas: forum shopping on steroids. Google has changed Lake Ontario to Lake America already.
So when I got an email with the headline about the Interior Department setting aside 2.3 million acres for the future enjoyment of the Trump family, it didn’t strike me as odd. Only later did I notice it was from The Onion.
Dept. Of Interior Sets Aside 2.3 Million Acres For Future Trumps To Enjoy
Where does this end, folks? Do you really think the midterms will lead to effective countermoves? Still expect to see the Epstein files? Do you envision a peaceful transition back to normalcy in 2028? These folks are just going to fold up shop and walk away? It’s going to be the hardest test democracy has ever faced. And from my spot here in Jersey, democracy ain’t doing too good.
The clue at 28A today was “Role for Selena Gomez on ‘Only Murders in the Building.’” I watched the whole first season of it but had no idea she was MABEL. Les S. More wrote: “I find Selena Gomez’ nasal, monotone delivery a bit annoying but she’s the perfect foil for those two silly geezers, Steve Martin and Martin Short.” I said “complaining about her voice was like noting that Babe Ruth couldn’t bunt.”
We’ll let SG close for us today. See you next time Chatterheads!
The Wellington Files 