The Blue Pitcher

that which may be filled and emptied

Month: June, 2014

Eva’s new poem

I go in my bed because I feel too fed
I go to the doctor she has a chain
I ask Lorraine she says hold on to the chain
I glory with pain and the letter A
but I am dancing with dad

Si Vous Plait

(which means please, I think.)

Makeshift Altars

These are the things we belly-up to. They are often quite pretty, at least in the moment.

Eva Answers Neruda

Inspired by the poem Caitlin McDonnell’s daughter Kaya wrote in answer to Pablo Neruda’s questions, Eva, 5, gave it a whirl on her own:


Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress? 

Naked except for her heart.


Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots? 

Because they are in the dirt.


Who hears the regrets of the thieving automobile?



Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?

Someone dead.


What do they call a flower that flies from bird to bird?

A Monarch.


Is it true that a black condor flies at night over my country?

Yes, over St. Martin.


How did the abandoned bicycle win its freedom?

It was left in the snow.


And why did cheese decide to perform heroic deeds in France?

There was no other place to go.


Where is the center of the sea?

The Pacific Ocean.


Why do the waves never go there?

Because they go to the beach instead.


Where can you find a bell that will ring in your dreams?

In school when you’re learning letters.


Are they birds or fish in these nets of moonlight?



Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities?

It will be alive in Paris.


Or will life not be a fish prepared to be a bird?



What do they call the sadness of a solitary sheep?



Do you not weep surrounded by laughter with bottles of oblivion?

Well, sometimes.