Misha The Poet Laureate

Good morning. Still damp from the pool. The folks were talkative today. Gay man who lives in his car about poetry and giving flowers to lovers. Tiny woman who is replacing her roof after her husband passed away, “did you know that they had solar shingles? How neat is that?” The usual folks slashing through the water, soaking in the hot tub afterwards. A community. I’m just one of the regulars now.

New cat started yowling at 2:30 a.m. Scared the living shit out of Jade and I. We got up and comforted him. I guess this is normal for him. He’s a scardie cat right now, but we are trying to give him space, and a good home so far. I think we’ll all figure it out together.

No phone in my room last night, so I was able to read and get quiet. Get back some nightime thinking.

I will not write only cat poems from now on. I’m not that kind of poet. But I will write about Gus a little bit. :-)

Good morning. Supposed to be helping Jade get ready for Gus by taking them to the car doctor. Instead, I am updating the firmware on the electric slabs that the books live on. A very 21st century task.

The little ebook that I bought is now loaded with sacred books, and is sitting in my notebook pouch. It’s fun. A little funky to hold, but it does the one thing it’s supposed to: provide a book in a pocket at all times.

Currently reading Figuring by Maria Popova. Have it on the different readers around the house: The Living Room Kindle, the Bedroom E-Reader for bedtime reading, the Tiny Daily Reader, and the Boox Palma in the swim bag for after swimming hot tub time. Silly to have so many little devices like this, but I’m nothing if not a weirdo about these things. I like the idea of a library in my pocket.

I love you

Good morning. Supposed to be helping Jade get ready for Gus by taking them to the car doctor. Instead, I am updating the firmware on the electric slabs that the books live on. A very 21st century task.

The little ebook that I bought is now loaded with sacred books, and is sitting in my notebook pouch. It’s fun. A little funky to hold, but it does the one thing it’s supposed to: provide a book in a pocket at all times.

Currently reading Figuring by Maria Popova. Have it on the different readers around the house: The Living Room Kindle, the Bedroom E-Reader for bedtime reading, the Tiny Daily Reader, and the Boox Palma in the swim bag for after swimming hot tub time. Silly to have so many little devices like this, but I’m nothing if not a weirdo about these things. I like the idea of a library in my pocket.

Trans Day of Shame Trans Day of Unemployment Trans Day of Unpeopling Trans Day of Invisibility Trans Day of Dysphoria Trans Day of Transgression Trans Day of Fuck You

This poem won’t get published in the new yorker

Current dumbed down phone:

• two stacked widgets on home screen.

• top stacked widget includes:

1. Big day and time, because I’m pretty blind.
2. Calendar Of The Day.
3. Reminders.

• 2nd stacked widget is my minimal launcher.

1. First launcher includes food, Venmo, email, my Obsidian archive, books to read, my RSS reader, and three search apps.
2. The second launcher is stuff that I use regular enough to wanna have it hand, but not enough for a daily launcher.

• dock includes most used chat apps, and my quick notes app.

• my widget area includes glanceable info and navigation:

1. World clock and weather stack
2. Maps
3. Spotify and Podcast
4. Sports because it’s baseball season.

Screen set to grayscale.

No social media on the phone at all.

No streaming video at all.

I think that’s going to be my last post about my fucking phone for a while.

I think I may be finally giving up on instagram. I went to the app on my iPad today, and clicked on the friends view, and literally every post was an ad. It wasn’t until the 10th picture that I saw something from a person I actually knew. I didn’t think it could get worse on the socials, but here we are.

Swimming gives me a place to not think. This is one of the advantages of swimming: I really can’t focus on much else. It’s a quiet place to think and breathe.