Wednesday, August 12, 2009

one word ruud: conditioned

Yemaya drips wet
by the first,

takes him into her

drizzle,

this heir-conditioned

heirlito, first-born &

generative -

a ludicrous price

for one less

than humid

summer afternoon,

rent by grilled

cebollas, taquitos,

& beer.

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16 Comments:

Blogger Dee Martin said...

Rain? Did you get rain? Or is this still a wish for rain? Too tired to be creative - up to my neck in computer problems but it's good to visit and dine - I love "heir-conditioned"

10:28 PM  
Anonymous missalister said...

así es la vida… is that crass? life, just life? the price? is what it is? i suppose i’m missing things. straighten me out. i'll gladly let you try since i have an idea you'd be so good at it that i may not pick up a thing but leave your care floating, smiling regardless. smiling, with grilled cebollas, taquitos, and beer on my happy breath.

10:41 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

This is a cute one, Murat. I love your Ruud, god of home comfort machines, the patriarch of all air conditioners that will protect you from the humid, looming thunder heads and hot, sultry air of summer heat in Tres Leches, Muravia! And Ruud is matched by Yamaya, the dripping goddess whose voice is in all believers' ears like the drone of so many window units. And all the heirlitos and bambinos are kept cool and healthy, protected from the 84% humidity and 101 degree heat, but without opened windows, the smell of abuelita's onions and taquitos cooking in the kitchen mingle with the sour odor of Papi's and Tio Manuel's Dos Equis that el ninito kicked over on the rug. Too many people crammed into a small house hunkered down under the sturdy Ruud air conditioners taking shelter from the summer heat and humidity.

11:16 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Dee: We did indeed get a sturdy shower yesterday, though I will always wish for more. I, too, feel the growing pinch of schoolista activities on my style and my leisure (or, more simply, my leisure style). Our students return this coming Monday.

5:55 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Duchess: It's memoir, albeit "ruudly" and obtusely configured, commemorating my adoption years ago in New Orleans by Yemaya, who promised to take care of my burned out "air" conditioning, but insisted that I give her my first-born. Since I was at the time a long-committed non-parent, I figured she was talking about my recent first-born novel and assured her that she could "have" it. She visited at other times around issues of air conditioning. I, of course, later discovered her wry homophonic (that's -phonic, not -phobic) tendencies; she was indeed conditioning me to have an heir.

The adoption took place in a taqueria on Magazine Street; those grilled cebollitas were awesome.

On our last visit to her emerald domain down at the Golfo de Mexico, in one beautiful crashing wave, she completely upended me, taking hat and sunglasses with her; she took another pair of sunglasses the next day. She loves me abundantly, and never fails to lovingly upend me...

6:10 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresita: I like your movie, down in Hollywood, Ry singing, and Ruud does indeed protect, while lovely Yemaya rules and cools her bambinas/os. You certainly got the weather right, cher. Only 84%? Of course, in New Orleans, from our under sea-level tea bowl, it was more than likely 150% humidity, only in the City that care forgot.

6:15 AM  
Blogger Teresa said...

I was not aware you had all grown gills, so I thought I should leave a slight amount of gaseous oxygen to preserve life, since we had so many in the wet, cooling pantheon watching out for y'all. In Seattle, we just grow webbed feet from the rain; I guess in Nawlin's you all are born with gills behind the ears! No wonder you have to keep that particular area wet!!!

9:28 AM  
Anonymous Richard Wells said...

Thanks for this one, Yemaya is one to be known and respected. The relationship seems playful, but in her aspect of Katrina, say, there's huge rage with no pearls left behind.

9:37 AM  
Anonymous Richard Wells said...

But maybe that was no Yemaya, but that other one who lives where the light doesn't...

9:41 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

T: We certainly grew something; not sure it was gills.

9:47 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

RW: Yemaya is definitely one to be reckoned with: she loves, and loves abundantly, and takes care of her babies. But, truth be told (and I don't tell everyone this story), when we had that first conversation and she issued her call for my first-born, and I assented, she added, with a mama's knowing grin, "But, don't fuck with me, boy."

She's thrown Chango out of the boat for being a sassy-mouth, but I don't think she was Katrina. She's more playful and gentle, even in her sterner admonitions. I've been thunked on the head plenty of times.

9:52 AM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Swamp grass?? Now that's just a little gross. But I bet Yamaya liked the watery decorations...

4:52 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: Ain't no swamp grass here, cher. We desert.

5:00 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Oh, then it must be tumbleweeds caught behind your ears. They must really prickle.

7:09 PM  
Anonymous missalister said...

LOL! I should have known better than to try to… Aw, but I’ve been frighteningly mental lately. Not myself. And that ain’t no great shakes, either. But I dig the whole sunglass swiping and upending bit.

11:39 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Duchess: You should always try to; Yemaya's your sister, anyway - Piscean goddess if there ever was one. Puts the little sassy-mouth Scorps in they places...

2:56 PM  

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