{"id":325,"date":"2011-08-17T01:46:43","date_gmt":"2011-08-17T01:46:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/gregglory.com\/wordpress\/?p=325"},"modified":"2023-07-08T10:22:04","modified_gmt":"2023-07-08T10:22:04","slug":"waking-and-walking","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/posts\/waking-and-walking\/","title":{"rendered":"Waking and Walking"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>\nKnowing things and not knowing them, which is better?  Water forgets it&#8217;s part of the Yerba Buena fountain, the icicle remembers its cold sorrow.  All day I am knitting my mind into decorative doilies and practical pot-holders, yet keep dreaming I am sewn into someone else&#8217;s quilt, my skin pulled taut by the curved, urgent needles of invisible seamstresses.  How can I plan the place to which my sleep will kidnap me?  I duck my shoulders under a dark archway and cross my fingers, the habit of religion helping me hunch.  The garden pillars point up without an instructional plaque, calm as orthodox monks being robbed at gunpoint;  the <em>tai chi<\/em> class I am passing on my way into the conflicting stripes of the SF Moma flows in some other time zone than mine, their hips and hands pressing into a clear honeyed liquid composed of moments.  The contemporary Jewish museum defies gravity the way a koan escapes closure, stock-still as a dredel stuck spinning on a Hanukkah card, the facile rabbi stumped by revelation.    A box closes, its little tail tucked under its feet;  who knows what it might contain?  The child closes his eyes hugging a parent.  Praying hands seem empty, but who knows?  I go in under the archway, through spinning glass.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Knowing things and not knowing them, which is better? Water forgets it&#8217;s part of the Yerba Buena fountain, the icicle remembers its cold sorrow. All day I am knitting my mind into decorative doilies and practical pot-holders, yet keep dreaming I am sewn into someone else&#8217;s quilt, my skin pulled taut by the curved, urgent <a href='https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/posts\/waking-and-walking\/' class='excerpt-more'>[&#8230;]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1001002,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-325","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poems","category-sipping-beer","category-5-id","category-9-id","post-seq-1","post-parity-odd","meta-position-corners","fix"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/325","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1001002"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=325"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/325\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8478,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/325\/revisions\/8478"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=325"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=325"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=325"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}