Seen on the subway.
In sixth grade Mrs. Walker
slapped the back of my head
and made me stand in the corner
for not knowing the difference
between persimmon and precision.
How to choose
persimmons. This is precision.
Ripe ones are soft and brown-spotted.
Sniff the bottoms. The sweet one
will be fragrant. How to eat:
put the knife away, lay down newspaper.
Peel the skin tenderly, not to tear the meat.
Chew the skin, suck it,
and swallow. Now, eat
the meat of the fruit,
all of it, to the heart.
Donna undresses, her stomach is white.
In the yard, dewy and shivering
with crickets, we lie naked,
I teach her Chinese.
Crickets: chiu chiu. Dew: I’ve forgotten.
Naked: I’ve forgotten.
Ni, wo: you and me.
I part her legs,
remember to tell her
she is beautiful as the moon.
that got me into trouble were
fight and fright, wren and yarn.
Fight was what I did when I was frightened,
Fright was what I felt when I was fighting.
Wrens are small, plain birds,
yarn is what one knits with.
Wrens are soft as yarn.
My mother made birds out of yarn.
I loved to watch her tie the stuff;
a bird, a rabbit, a wee man.
Mrs. Walker brought a persimmon to class
and cut it up
so everyone could taste
a Chinese apple. Knowing
it wasn’t ripe or sweet, I didn’t eat
but watched the other faces.
My mother said every persimmon has a sun
inside, something golden, glowing,
warm as my face.
Once, in the cellar, I found two wrapped in newspaper,
forgotten and not yet ripe.
I took them and set both on my bedroom windowsill,
where each morning a cardinal
sang, The sun, the sun.
he was going blind,
my father sat up all one night
waiting for a song, a ghost.
I gave him the persimmons,
swelled, heavy as sadness,
and sweet as love.
This year, in the muddy lighting
of my parents’ cellar, I rummage, looking
for something I lost.
My father sits on the tired, wooden stairs,
black cane between his knees,
hand over hand, gripping the handle.
He’s so happy that I’ve come home.
I ask how his eyes are, a stupid question.
All gone, he answers.
Under some blankets, I find a box.
Inside the box I find three scrolls.
I sit beside him and untie
three paintings by my father:
Hibiscus leaf and a white flower.
Two cats preening.
Two persimmons, so full they want to drop from the cloth.
He raises both hands to touch the cloth,
asks, Which is this?
This is persimmons, Father.
Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk,
the strength, the tense
precision in the wrist.
I painted them hundreds of times
eyes closed. These I painted blind.
Some things never leave a person:
scent of the hair of one you love,
the texture of persimmons,
in your palm, the ripe weight.
✨Post-it-Love-Note whisper sweet nothings to me edition✨
this is why i don’t go to yoga with you guys
A Glasgow nightclub has installed a two-way mirror which allows male revellers in private booths to spy on unsuspecting women as they visit the toilet! With no notification or signage anywhere in the venue many female club goers have been left feeling embarrassed and used. Although they do briefly show the mirrors in a promo video, the club has been quickly deleting comments and posts on their social media from club goers trying to alert others to the situation. This is pretty much illegal and hugley violates privacy. Thank you The Shimmy Club for giving us a shiny, new, creative and cool take on objectification.
i’m never leaving my house again, this world is just too fucked up.
gross gross gross gross gross
Good morning disgusting.
- “No space, leave the place” (fingernail test)
- A two way mirror must be set INTO the wall, not placed on top of it.
- If you rap/knock against the mirror, one installed onto a wall (a normal mirror) will make a dull sound, because there’s something behind it. A two-way will have more reverberation.
- Use the flashlight on your phone to shine on the mirror, if it’s a two-way, you’ll be able to see into the other room.
- You can also shield your eyes and see in if you lean up against the glass.
- The room being viewed will have to be brightly lit (10x brighter than the room looking in), so if you’re in a typical dimly lit club bathroom, you’re ok.
im so fucking angry
sexism and rape culture.
i find it so frustrating/disappointing/infuriating that tips on how to identify a two-way mirror is even necessary. and of course if you try anything on the list, people will think you’re being ridiculous. UNACCEPTABLE.
Sarla Thakral, first Indian woman pilot (from Vivchavan).