Memorable Halloween Outfits (Of Yore) on the Morning Shows

Self is just coming out with the blog posts — words are cascading like avalanches these days!

One of the pleasures of Halloween is watching what the morning talk show hosts do for the day. Last year, self did something on the Weather Man for Channel x, the one who’s lost a lot of weight? Drat, what is his name again?

Anyhoo, courtesy of Buzzsugar, the outfits (of course, from Halloweens past):

And, this just in:   Did anyone see the guy who partners Nancy Grace in Dancing with the Stars? Adorable!  This week, they are going to do the rumba and supposedly bringing sexy back.  Quick, everyone, vote for Nancy Grace!  Self wants to see her partner stay in the competition for as long as possible!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Finding Sasha Pimentel Chacon in GULF COAST

Self has a subscription to Gulf Coast. (What, you didn’t know that self has a subscription to at least a score of lit mags? Well, now you do!)

Anyhoo, as self was thumbing through the pages of the thick, fat Summer/Fall 2011 issue, she stumbled across a familiar name: Sasha Pimentel Chacon!

It’s really wonderful:  the issue has at least three of her poems.  Since self has this idiosyncratic habit of beginning each journal from the back, the first of Sasha’s poems that she read was “In Their Dark Habits.”  It begins with this epigraph:

There have been hundreds of complaints in Juarez to the official state . . .  of the military murdering people, kidnapping people, torturing people, raping people, robbing people.

—  Charles Bowden, April 2010

The poem begins:

In Their Dark Habits

of skin, the soldiers watch
a girl, their machine guns propped
on cars every four feet, trained


The poem literally grabs the reader by the throat — the image of the girl, the soldiers, the anxiety, the terror, the everything, all come together in the poem’s anguished expression.

Self flipped the pages, encountered the second of Sasha’s poems, “Safely Watching a Solar Eclipse.”  This one is in shapely two-line stanzas.  Self loves to read poetry but she herself is no poet so she can’t immediately identify the form. She thinks Eugene Gloria had a book that was all poetry in this form.  Or is the book self is thinking of really D. A. Powell’s Cocktail?  (Perhaps —  here self has to dredge deep in her memory —  this is a ghazal?)

The last of Sasha’s poems (which is actually the first, if you read Gulf Coast the way normal people do — that is, from the beginning) is “On a Business Meeting in Bulacan with the Uncle You’ve Heard Beats His Wife.”

Here’s part of it:

Because you haven’t seen him
for more than twenty years, you take his hand

and press it to your forehead as custom,
God’s voice speaking through

the clasp of his hand and your skin, your skin
sweating to find the mosquitos wading

over his knuckles and your lashes, and his wife, beside you, suddenly
quiet before this man who looks like your father

Sasha, your words are shattering.  Thanks much, Gulf Coast, for publishing this wonderfully gifted young poet!

Come to think of it, self seems to recall getting an e-mail notice about Sasha having a collection out this year.  Aaargh, what with all the travelling she’s been doing, she can’t recall the title.  (Never fear:  Google is here!)

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

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