{"id":11245,"date":"2013-12-09T07:08:31","date_gmt":"2013-12-09T11:08:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/?p=11245"},"modified":"2013-12-09T00:10:08","modified_gmt":"2013-12-09T04:10:08","slug":"coney-island-sunday","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/coney-island-sunday\/","title":{"rendered":"Coney Island Sunday"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><iframe data-src=\"\/\/player.vimeo.com\/video\/81359885\" height=\"360\" width=\"480\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\" src=\"data:image\/svg+xml;base64,PHN2ZyB3aWR0aD0iMSIgaGVpZ2h0PSIxIiB4bWxucz0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMjAwMC9zdmciPjwvc3ZnPg==\" class=\"lazyload\" data-load-mode=\"1\"><\/iframe><br \/>\n&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">&amp; walking along, Hitchcock didn&#8217;t come to mind once, but I couldn&#8217;t stop thinking of <strong>Paul Blackburn<\/strong>&#8216;s strange fixation on gulls, his &#8220;never look a gull in the eye,&#8221; and his\u00a01949\/1951 poem which I&#8217;ll take the liberty of reproducing below:<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>THE BIRDS<\/p>\n<p>I want them to come here<br \/>\nI want to see them here<br \/>\nat this round boulder.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;White spots against the sky, each<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;there, a swollen white spike on each<br \/>\nof the line of rotten piles that reach<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;out from shore.<br \/>\nOthers skim the sea, strange<br \/>\ncries, wings flapping<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I want to see them here<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I want them to come here. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I<br \/>\nswim my mind, swim it<br \/>\nin the moving water of all my world<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;in moving clouds<br \/>\n<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;in sun.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And I was young<br \/>\nand neck began to wobble clear, but feet<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;were rooted in this beach, for I<br \/>\nfeared the dark march to the sun again; and each<br \/>\nstiff inner motion moved me into song<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;instead of into living:<br \/>\nbut now I know what thing is worth the having<br \/>\nand fear the imperfection in my singing; but now<br \/>\ncan lie here and swim my mind in it<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and still know when to leave<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;touch bottom to darkness where<br \/>\nI no longer fear to ask much of the gods.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It has taken me a long time to realise<br \/>\nI want them to come here<br \/>\nI want to see them here.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &amp; walking along, Hitchcock didn&#8217;t come to mind once, but I couldn&#8217;t stop thinking of Paul Blackburn&#8216;s strange fixation on gulls, his &#8220;never look a gull in the eye,&#8221; and his\u00a01949\/1951 poem which&#46;&#46;&#46;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1117,989],"tags":[1459],"class_list":["post-11245","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poem","category-video","tag-paul-blackburn"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11245","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11245"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11245\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11250,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11245\/revisions\/11250"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11245"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11245"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11245"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}