My "internet budget" (no access during the day) has been enlightening. When the access turns off, I feel an enormous burden lifting from my shoulders.
I find I'm posting *more* because I have a limited amount of time and therefore don't revise, reword, edit, rethink and (65% of the time) abandon my responses.
I've so enjoyed the poems popping up all around my d-roll. Let me share my enthusiasm for Lucia Perillo.
The Sweaters -- 1989
Used to be, fellows would ask if you were married--
now they just want to know what kind of diseases
you've got. Mother, what did they teach you of the future
in those nun-tended schoolrooms of the Sacred Heart?
Nobody kept cars in the city. Maybe you'd snuggle
when the subway went dark, or take walks
down castle Hill Avenue, until it ran into the Sound--
the place you called "The End": where, in late summer
the weeds were rife with burrs, and tomatoes ripened
behind the sheds of the Italians, beside their half-built
skiffs. Out on the water,
bare-legged boys balanced on the gunwales
of those wooden boats, reeling in the silver-bellied fish
that twitched and flickered while the evening dimmed to purple.
What sweater did you wear to keep you from the chill window
blowing down at The End, that evening you consented
to marry Father? The plain white mohair, or the gray
angora stitched with pearls around the collar?
Or the black cashmere, scoop-necked
and trimmed with golden braid, store in a box below the bed
to keep it hidden from Grandma? Each one prized,
like a husband, in those lean years during the war.
I see him resting his face against whichever wool it was,
a pearl or a cable or braid imprinting his cheek
while the Sound washed in, crying _again, again_.
Mother, we've abandoned all our treasured things, your sweaters
long since fallen to the moths of bitter days. And what
will I inherit to soften this hard skin, to make love tender?
Resource: Whoever is running her website is stuck in 2000: frames and bitmapped menus.
Here's a page of audio links, and she's got a mittful of books available as well.
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oublaire posted a lyric video 
