Ethan is Alive

What a Glorious Day

Hello Everyone,

Well, it’s crazy everywhere. And that includes right here at this little old e-zine o’mine. I seem to have picked up several hundred more followers in the past few days. Not sure what’s up with that, but: Welcome everyone! Thank you for being here.

Down below, find a poem I wrote called Inauguration Day 2025. I don’t unleash too much poetry here. Maybe that will change as this country’s descent into utter madness continues at an alarming pace. There won’t be enough time for long, well-thought out pieces on each new dystopian current event. The poo is being flung too fast. Attempting to cover it all would be a fool’s errand. But perhaps I can maximize news coverage by limiting myself to no more than two (2) haiku per each new Batty Signal that emits from Casa Blanca. (My new name for the White House. I hope you’ll join me in using it. Kind of like, to, you know, make up for this Gulf of America nonsense.) Which reminds me—many, many years ago, Smithsonian Magazine hired me to write a Haiku History of the World. (Weirdly, they insisted on multiple haiku about current politics.)

Before we get to the poem, I want to share a couple of links to stories I read last week that show how amazing and kind and good and compassionate humans can be. With all the doom headlines and the genuinely horrible things going on, I want to cheerfully remind you that there is also A LOT OF GOODNESS happening out there. We just don’t hear about it as often since bad news is more reliable clickbait.

The first story is an update on the guy who was pushed in front of an incoming NY subway train in December. He recalls lying beneath the train, in excruciating pain, realizing he was inches away from the third rail which could electrocute him. Some Good Samaritans kept talking to him while waiting for the emergency workers to arrive. And when the emergency workers did manage to extract him? Here’s a quote from the article:

“I’m in my underwear on the platform just begging for help,” he said. “I said to the F.D.N.Y., ‘I know I’m really hurt, but can we make sure that someone is going to be able to get to my dog?’”

The dog in question? A 16 year-old Dachshund named Leo that was home alone.

This link should get you past the paywall if you want to read the whole article.

The second story is about football, but you don’t have to dig football to dig the story. In last Sunday’s divisional playoff game between the Baltimore Ravens and the Buffalo Bills, in the final minutes, Raven Mark Andrews caught a pass very close to the goal line. Had he made it across, the Ravens would have won the game and won a spot in the Super Bowl Semifinals. Instead, he slipped and dropped the ball. The Bills advanced. Unfortunately, some Ravens fans were so angry about the dropped ball that they began throwing some serious online shade at Andrews. Two twentysomething fans of the Bills felt really bad for Andrews and how cruelly some of his own team’s fans were dissing him. So they decided to raise some money for diabetes research in honors of Andrews, who has Type 1 diabetes. They were hoping to raise $5,000. They raised nearly $143,000 last time I checked. And, also very awesome, they really raised the spirits of Andrews. (And then the Bills lost to the Chiefs, in case you want to know.)

This link should get you past the paywall if you want to read the whole article.

Okay, here’s my poem. If you would prefer to hear/watch me read it in the sitting room of the O. Henry Museum, just scroll down to the video below.

Inauguration Day 2025

Here is how
I want to remember
this day
Pre-dawn:
Coffee in bed
Meditating in bed
The dogs in bed

The cold:
Twenty-three degrees
Refusing to resent
the outside chores
that await me
and which
I am delaying
until sky lightens

Channeling Bob
I am always 
Channeling Bob
How he did the work
Every day
Grateful for the work
Every day
Until the day he died
at eighty-nine

I, too, 
am grateful for the work
The distraction from
the poison in the air
The animals
demand presence 
their needs simple
Food Water Shelter 
That’s it
I try to learn from them

Will Ethan
the two day old
baby mini goat
be alive still
in this bitter cold?
Was the nest I made
sufficient?
All that hay
Those flannel sheets
Cast-offs of some
long ago roommate

Outside, finally
Layer upon layer
I feel so bunchy 
Lumbering from
feed shed 
to goat yard

Ethan lives!
This is how 
I want to remember today
Two pound goat
Not forty-eight hours old
hopping nuzzling nursing

And, more amazing still
look at that sparrow!
That tiny sparrow
How do the littlest birds
survive?
It is so
damn
cold

I want to remember
meeting a friend for coffee
at my safe place
Kind faces
Fellow loners
Shrine to Jason
I love it here so much

I want to remember
picking my friend’s brain
for 
his broader view
his smart facts
his reasonable voice
and
(without slipping into
gossip)
I want to tell him
how happy my heart is 
to hear he is
so happy
dating my friend

I love it when
my friends are happy

I want to remember
going to the feed store
for more hay
Because Wendy
(Ethan’s mother)
has eaten half the nest
I love going for hay
I nearly swagger in
Been coming here
going on
ten years now
Guess I really am
a country girl

I want to remember
dropping in to the knit shop
trip unplanned
Like stopping in a church
on a random Wednesday
oh hallowed sanctuary 
of yarn
(I buy some skeins
and crochet hooks
for a homeless friend
so she can 
make herself something
warm)

And the drive west then
out to the little chapel
on the windy hill
to bring together
a lovely chilly bride
and her unshivering 
Dutch groom
How short this event
How much love they fit
into so few words
How swiftly
the bride pulls back on
Her puffy winter coat
After a brisk first kiss

All of us gathered
laughing
clapping
happy
Warmer for their love
(Corny but 
also true)

I want to remember 
the drive home
knowing a coming snowstorm
has prompted 
a preemptive shutdown
Tomorrow we will all play hooky
I love hooky

I want to remember
arriving home
still so cold
so cold so cold
so bitter cold
still not complaining
throwing those bales of hay
over the gate
like some younger woman
I am not

Ethan is happy
Ethan is hoppy
The troughs have thawed
The duck steps one
orange foot
then the other
into the muddy melt
becomes one
with his ice laced puddle
There is cold peace here
in the animal yard

And I want to remember
Hearing the propane truck
pulling up just then
A sweeter sound 
I have not heard
The tank is empty
It’s been three days
Since I’ve showered
Soon I will shower!
I will be so happy
Hot water beating down

I want to remember
it was 
for me
just 
another day
a mundane day
different only from
the one before
by Darkness Descending

I have learned
at this ranch
it is best not
to walk in darkness
you gotta shine 
a light
even if it’s 
just 
a little light
watch closely 
where you walk
pay attention

light 
reveals 
joy
reveals 
light

(This little light of mine
I’m gonna let it shine…
etc
etc)

Here is my defiance then:
I will not
surrender my joy
I will not dim my light

Ethan is alive
What a glorious day

NOTES:

Please consider a paid subscription to this old punk rocker’s e-zine. No pressure ever. Just know if you do kick in $5 per month it really helps me. You can also help by sharing this with others you think will dig it.

You can ALSO help by buying a copy of my latest book, Grok This, Bitch, a very funny novel about Austin, TX. E-copies are $10. Print copies are $30 (postage included). You can Venmo me: @spike-gillespie. You can read the first chapter here. You can read chapter eighteen—Ant Farm—here.

My next FREE writing workshop at the Hampton Branch Library in Oak Hill will be Tuesday February 4 from 5:30-7:30. Spaces fill up every time so if you want to reserve a spot here is the EventBrite Link.

I’m always collecting adult clothes, bedding, blankets, towels, shoes, sleeping bags, backpacks and toiletries for the homeless folks I serve on Thursdays. If you’re in Austin and have stuff to donate, give me a shout and we can set up a pick up/drop off.

Thanks y’all! Stay Strong. Fear Less. Do Not Obey in Advance.