Untaken
[a quick summer poem from CT] [& celebrating THREE YEARS on Substack!]
Blue Jay on the crest of a cobalt Adirondack chair!
Pivots, then twitches into a perfect profile.
The photo becomes.
A just right stack of color, shape, and size.
I hear the phantom click.
I take it with my naked eyeballs.
The bird sets off.
I have no proof.
Will I trust me that I saw this?
Hello, dear reader!
I’m in CT at the moment house- and pet-sitting and editing two massive projects for other writers whom I greatly admire. I have lots of my own writing to release soon, but have been deep in the worlds of other authors lately. I hope you enjoy my humble Blue Jay poem and, if you’re new, or old! here, I want you to know that I’ve been on Substack for THREE YEARS as of July 3rd.
Also, I have been a “happy non-drinker” (courtesy of Allen Carr's Quit Drinking Without Willpower) for ONE YEAR as of July 3rd as well.
It is pure accident (or the alchemy of solar power) that I keep changing my life in positive ways on July 3rd! I only noticed this pattern today. Quitting booze and starting Substack are two precious enhancements to my life. Thank you to all of you who have been my readers along the way.
In honor of three years on Substack, I’ve selected three pieces of writing that I’d like to highlight from my time publishing on this platform. Peruse (watch, listen, or read) them below.
The Gay Ancestor Story
I told a rather epic and personal story at our last The Mister Rogers Variety Hour show. The events of this story span no less than the years of my life, as I encountered them, from 1985 to 2020, which I crammed, due to time constraints, into a 14-minute narrative, which I think accounts for the mounting sweat on my upper lip throughout.
Listen as I read to you "The Gallon Club: My harrowing attempts to be a good person"
https://www.redcrossblood.org/ Emma Tattenbaum-Fine's Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
"Aspirational" (text version)
One aspect of dog walking that I had not anticipated, or given any particular thought to before beginning the job, was the volume of empty Brooklyn apartments I would see on my dog-walking route. What I have come to see in New York is that the apartments of strangers, vacant of the people who pay to live in them, inha…
Me too! Diner at my house when you get back!
Happy July 3rd! Love it!