Bob Marcacci

ABCDEr bro CALIen dad edct. friend gaud husband iambilicat jape kin lover mi’m nil opus poetast quixot Robert son teacher uncle verselete wanderer xct. yon zizz

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Lacking the wherewithal of an influencer, the new children of the age of some seemingly new Aquarius, without the upbringing of our progeny who’ve been swaddled in the trappings of technology as soon as they could hold a tablet, I crudely bang out what I can in the cudgel of it.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Runny nose & congestion this morning, so, after espresso w/oat milk, I called in sick, which is burdensome as I’m required to fill-out a Google form & upload tediously detailed lesson plans for a substitute, the last thing anyone wants to do when they’re feeling worse for wear.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Lately, no more than an admirer of sentences, trotting them out irregularly, my little, random, Frankensteinian burbles into the world & then abandoned, to this overstimulating medium, &, yes, only the key words are meaningful or mean that something catalogued their existence.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Bots, from what I can tell, which comprise a majority of my readership now, will undoubtedly find this—or not; rather than read this, a real audience has AI-generated content to suffer; you don’t know what you’re looking at so you scroll past it, keep going; nothing to see here.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Friday night: Vito practicing trombone in his bedroom upstairs; Angela watching a movie in Japantown with colleagues; dishes waiting for me; reading e. e. cummings between
cigarettes;:::,.
.
,
;

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Saturday on the couch—2026 Winter Olympics, Milan Cortina, IT on TV: USA women’s hockey v. Sweden followed by women’s monobob or bobsleigh, which involves piloting a sledge down an ice track or chute; men’s super team ski jump, pretty much what it sounds like; & pairs free skate.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Rain tonight: all the intricate infinite rhythms of a downpour keep time on the ceiling, the world, muffling almost every other sound but that song of everything; everywhere reflecting neon on the glistening swatches of light on water & whatever; cars shush thru the intersection.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

—

i communicated

with someone before

now

*
before i was

this bird

tweeting

*

although

it’s not called

that anymore

—
#haynaku is hay(na)ku
#triptych

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Coloring: indigo light dawning; blinding white sun’s rays strafing when it rises; all the rainbow umbrellas over picnic tables at Sky Park; hazy brownish-blue smudge obscuring Oakland; scattered purple petals from flowers of the glory bush on the ground outside our condominium…

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

It’d be easy to just sleep, but I’m trying to hammer this out before the day turns over—eyelids drooping after reading longer than usual, Angela sawing logs next to me, & Vito, on the other side of the wall, water rumbling in the tub, getting a shower started at this late hour.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Sunday’s aromatic waft: eucalyptus steam tablet (disk might be more apropos) dissolved in a Tlingit dish, Island Mist body wash, L’Envol de Cartier, Major Dickason’s Blend espresso, Glade Sky & Sea Salt scented oil, burnt kale from a failed quiche lunch, air thick with cut grass.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Nursing a headache tonight after attending the ICE protest at Fruitvale Station, then knocking off a beer with Angela at Park Station, noodles at Wild Ginger (the best hand-pulled noodles in Alameda & maybe even the Eat Bay), & finally onning & offing cigarettes on the way home.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

I missed a day two days ago, & that is just going to happen occasionally; Grocery Outlet after late breakfast, lunch rescheduled to dinner with friends at our place, then Monday’s routine beginning to another week, & an Afrofuturism workshop after more of the same at work today.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Returning home from a late morning / early afternoon visit to my parents’ house in Dixon, purple petals lay scattered across the front yard & shaded, discolored cement walkway, green with algae, that leads to the locked black iron gate scrolled all over with peeling paint & rust.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Seen at dinner from the restaurant window, & later, from the car on the drive home from San Francisco, the crescent moon, golden, that pendulum, makes its long, slow swing across the sky tonight, slicing down toward the horizon where it will eventually disappear beyond the ocean.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

This morning starts with birds chirruping, then a sputtering Moka, the ever present thrum of traffic from the Nimitz, an underlying electric drone that pervades the very air, magazine pages gently turning, a key biting into its hole & snapping locked a deadbolt, ends with a kiss.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

The day is nothing more than a list of common forgotten moments: heating oat milk for coffee, reading National Geographic in the kitchen, flossing in front of the accordian mirror, plucking hairs, eating slivers of artisan chocolate from Modica after dinner, writing one sentence.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

Today in reverse: read 𝘈 𝘞𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 ��𝘪𝘮𝘦, watched a few episodes of 𝘛𝘦𝘩𝘳𝘢𝘯, entered grades for 1 assignment in 2 classes in PowerSchool, played Star Wars Galaxy of Heroes, taught Afrofuturism with P-Funk, started reading 𝘏𝘢𝘮𝘭𝘦𝘵, & rode the 51A to school.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

With a day off to honor MLK, Jr., I graded papers in the morning, then vacuumed the downstairs, drove to Lucky for a loaf of olive bread & some mint, played Clank! & Citadel with friends with whom we also ate, &, once they left, Angela booked our flights to Italy for late June.

[Bob Marcacci @BobMarcacci]

In a sunny, late morning haze, Angela & I drove in our silver-gray Honda-CRV to the Cataract Falls Trail in the Mt. Tamalpais Watershed, ate leftover Square Guys pizza from yesterday on a wooden bench near Laurel Dell, & then stopped for coffee & baclava at Sana’a on our return.