Transcript
A (0:00)
Instagram Teen Accounts have automatic protections for what teens see and who can contact them, plus time management tools and Instagram will continue adding built in safety features to help create age appropriate experiences. Learn more about teen accounts and Instagram's ongoing work to protect teens online at Instagram.com teenaccounts.
B (0:32)
When the flu is keeping you up at night, don't try to tough it out. Knock out your flu symptoms with nyquil Intense Flu. You got this. It provides powerful relief of your flu symptoms so you can sleep well through the night. Nyquil Intense Flu the nighttime sniffling, aching, aching fever. Best sleep with a flu medicine. Use as directed. Keep out of reach of children.
C (0:59)
I'm maggie sm and this is the slowdown. Poems so often say the things we can't. They give language and shape to ideas that feel too big for words like love and mortality and grief. Today's poem does just that, and I'm grateful for it. Sleep by Matthew Dickman I don't remember what I was told when I was 8 years old and my grandfather died and his body was cremated so it was no longer a big body made small by cancer, but a smaller body made insignificant by fire. I might have been told he was sleeping, and I might have been waiting in the rain at his funeral, watching the gold colored urn of him being placed into a marble wall, waiting for him to wake up and become big again. I might have, in my little blue suit and black patent leather shoes, hoped that something, the sound of the rain or an angel made out of wet grass and wet pine needles and the wet faces of the mourners would wake him up. Tonight. I just want Richard to wake up. I want to be a smoker again and pull a lighter out of my back pocket and light the cigarette I just bummed from him while we stand close together under the evergreen in Vermont that shot straight up through the rain and clouds. I want him to wake up and re enter the gore of his body, its pink and gray anatomy, and find some clothes and find some shoes and walk across the earth and sit next to me and sit next to Connie and sit next to Ellen and sit next to sue and sit next to Trinny, Nick, Marie, and Michael too, and if he's too tired from being dead for three days, I'll go to him naked in the undressing of my mind. Right now my children are sleeping and will one day be dead in their lives. Right now I am halfway through my life and I will be dead, as dead as a mouse, as dead as any other creature. Right now, the only life I want back is Richard's life. I want the God of horizons and the God of lodestones and the God of drawbridges and caravans and mangers and and money and mascara and dildos and the God of ships and fish and eggs and earthquakes and the God of all kinds of things wanted to breathe him back and body him back and carry him back because, oh Lord, I loved him. But if he can't come back, if he can't ever wake up again, then I want nothing but his absence. I want that absence whole and warm and alive. I want to be able to sit next to it and hug it and talk about the shitty morning I had when I dropped the last of the milk and how it poured across the floor and how my youngest sat in front of his dry bowl of cereal and looked at me and how I looked out the kitchen window just then and saw nothing. No sky, no trees, no birds, no rain, no cars, no yard. Not even a neighbor's house. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. And find us on Instagram, lodownshow and bluesky@slowdownshow.org. Hey, it's Maggie. Every weekday, the Slowdown delivers the creativity and care of poetry to all free of charge, and your support makes it possible. Donating to the Slowdown is easy. Just go to slowdownshow.org donate to make your gift in less time than it takes to listen to an episode.
