this is where stories are made up and mended, between the rememberforget

Remember how I was telling you about my new Scottish friend, Sophie? Well I just wanted to give you a little example of how awesome she is. Even though we've never met, she might already be my new favorite modern poet. There is a distinctly Scottish sensibility ( it has always seemed to me) that I guess I've spent so much effort trying to get back to in my daily life. (That return to the origin idea.) It's part oddly/riotously humorous and part super hazy/dreamy-- making up words with (somehow) a completely clear meaning. Case. in. point. This poem by Sophie. Also, check out her music. 100% real deal Scots folk music. Yes. She's even on a tour of the US right now. Turns out, we're going to miss each other in NYC by just a little bit, so instead, we'll meet in October in Scotland!

Between the Rememberforget 

Down at the landdawn where willows grow tall 

And the moon-tide neaps the waves 

Down at the strewnquilt sunspilt surge 

And the mouthydark wet of the caves 

Down at the flitterfished shallows of edge 

Where the toe-slip seaweed lies 

And where seashelly soddens are garnished with sedge 

To the strutbeaking herring-gull cries 

Down at the weedystrewn straggling hem 

At the lip of the waterywet 

This is where stories are made up and mended 

Between the rememberforget 

Also, here's her singing Auld Lang Syne-- fitting.