Rêve

dreamt i had the Obamas over for dinner last night.

Michelle was priggish and cold.

Barack took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves

and sat down on my couch.

He leaned in when I talked to him.

i told him that people were confused.

i said that people thought He was "the answer,"

but this was wrong.

He was only supposed to set "the answer" in motion;

he was the conduit through which "the answer" would come.
This is why the people are angry,
and feel they have been betrayed.

He agreed whole-heartedly, clapping his hands.

Kevin said I was being rude.

Michelle smoothed her skirt and looked embarrassed.

Barack made himself a turkey sandwich
and explained how this was true.

His daughters hunted Easter eggs in the backyard.

It occurred to me,
watching him make his sandwich in my kitchen,
that i couldn't remember his middle name.

i began to fret over it, in case one of the other guests should ask me.

i turned to face the guests mingling through my house.
i meant to find Kevin, to ask him if he knew Barack's middle name.

But my eyes locked with Theda Bara's.

"Hussein" she mouthed at me, from across the crowded room.

Funny, 

that i should remember thinking in my dream 

that i didn't know, 

then supplying myself with the answer after all.

Edges of Lonely ~ Day Two

Work again. 

Too much work.

Ate shitty fast food. 

Felt miserable.

Fell asleep on couch.

Meh.

It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't "seizing the opportunity

of solitude," and all that rot...

Tomorrow will be better.

The Edges of Lonely - Day One

Five days to myself
to think and breathe and stretch and purr

I have glibly encouraged singleton friends and my sister to enjoy being alone. I have been jealous over the luxury of solitude for a little while now. So I am determined to relish this time apart from him. I am determined to take my own glib advice and embrace this time to myself.

Day one was not tough, really. I was at work for 13 hours of the day, so I forgot that I was alone. But the sun was late to bed this evening when I got off work (spring around the corner!), so I had a few minutes of sunshine to revel in.
I rolled my window down and stuck my elbow on the door frame.
I went to the market and bought some seed packets of chard and sweet peas.

Roaming around the store, I was trying to decide between frozen burrito or ice cream for dinner when it hit me... This is wrong. I'm a grown-ass adult woman. I want good food. Food lovingly prepared just for me. Okay, so I'm going to have a date with myself.

I bought things to make a spicy penne pasta with bison (just to try something new!). And I didn't scrimp on the ingredients.

Once home, I put the water on to boil, then walked the dogs around the neighborhood.
When I got back in, my first thought was to put on the television, so I would have some noise/company.
But instead, I put on some jazz music, which is much more date-like.

I sauteed and simmered, and chopped, and crushed, and baked a loaf of garlic bread.
Then I broke out the antique china and opened a bottle of Cab Sauv.
On a whim I lit a candle and stuck that on the table, too.
I turned down most of the lights, and Really enjoyed my food, my wine and my own company.

The pasta was delicious, the wine was perfect and the company...well...it wasn't half bad either.

The worst part of my date...?
Going to bed alone.
(At least there are the doggies!)

Le Silence est D'or

last night i dreamt 

of Theda Bara

but she wouldn't speak to me

so i made us both a coffee

(hers with two cremes)

and told her all of my secrets



she said nothing.
only watched me over the rim of her cup

EnterView

if you could whisper in my ear
so that i were bound by a secret, 
what would you say?


what words would fly readily to your lips?

if i had the power
to grant you just one wish,
what object would your arms instinctively reach for?

if vision were yours, and you could see anything
and everything

what is the first sight your eyes would seek?

if you could go back into sleep
to finish that dream
would you?


if everyone were frozen 
for one second in time,
what caper would you cut?

if there were no boundaries
how far would you go?

Bibliophilia

(sitting watching wind blow

sipping mint tea

thinking...)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it is no easy thing

to write entity into Being

no one told me about the responsibility

of birthing vicarious

fictive characters

I mean, 

do you really want that character hanging around,

laughing through your dreams

standing next to you in the shower

watching you make love

whispering in your ear

snuggling down beside you
as you watch t.v.

humming along with you to the song on the radio?

well do you?

even the ones you kill off

don't really ever go away

they linger in the part of your brain

that conceived them in the first place

the part that labored

all of those long, sweating hours

to deliver them safely to the outstretched arms of the blank page

all of my characters are me

I do not know how

just that they are

yes, i am the hero
and the lover and the saint and the villain

and the nemesis and the witch and the maid

and the crone and the Father

and the fallen leaves that she watches

as they swirl over the ground at her feet

poison

the more i write this one to existence

the less i find appealing 

the more sunlight i spin and weave

the more he is eclipsed

to write myself to my fictive world

i would

the brighter the days there

the greyer the rain here

i close my eyes and see it clearly

i write myself in

and stop my ears

i settle in
i write myself down and high
snuggle up with the languid waste of wanting
that which i have created


pygmalion, you elegant bastard
you knew too well

the more he isn't him

the more impatient i grow

even as the tale is spinning

a web to catch me in

i brew the poison

to pour in mine own ear