Friday, November 11, 2016
What a Night! - Two Poems: We Can't Even Say His Name - Packet of Forget-Me-Not Seeds
In the dark, covered over by two hand-knited blankets by Sandy, I lie on my side watching CASE, a TV series from Iceland.
The characters were difficult, liars, out of control with addictions, but we must learn what happens in the end. Extremely well-acted and suspenseful, the film won lots of honors.
View it here.
A very satisfying ending. But I couldn't bear to go up to my bedroom, so I turned on CROWN about Queen Elizabeth. I like it very much.
Woke up in the morning with Crown still playing.
The living room was all lit up!
Daylight! I was shocked. No matter what, the world spins on. Somehow I felt depressed, dunno why, and went upstairs and fell asleep in my bed, pulling the covers above my head, so the morning light wouldn't awaken me.
Where to now? Dear Reader.
Gotta return some library books.
If you wanna know if there's mail on Veteran's Day, you goggle it right?
I want you to do dat! "Is there mail on Veteran's Day"
The answer should come right up.
But the answer is NO.
I'm gonna take my time, then, and write a real letter to Jonatha. It's exciting b/c I dunno yet what I'll write. Except I will send that poem Forget-Me-Not to her. You know what? I'll even send her the seeds.
This morning, I went into my online Trash Bin and deleted 23,000 emails.
WE CAN'T EVEN SAY HIS NAME
What I did to blot him from my mind
was rent a car from Enterprise,
buy a map, and travel to Wyoming.
Carolyn from Goddard and I were
once there. Visited an old ghost town
with dusty streets and tumbledown
We slept, badly, at an old hotel
called Silver Springs. Up in the
mmorning for flapjacks with plenty
of butter and syrup.
That's where I'm headed. Got as
far as Iowa City, satchel full
of books strapped in the passenger
They keep me company - Ian McEwan, Sean
my lip and refuse to cry.
PACKET OF FORGET-ME-NOT SEEDS
The seeds were hiding under a pile
of other forgottens -
books I shall never read -
Tony Hillerman, Paranoia by
Joseph Finder, Wallace Stegner,
once a best-selling author
across our land
As I spread them across the
front lawn in a memorial
gesture, I shall honor
people I've largely forgotten
Beautiful Maggie with
mad face, who couldn't make herself
leave her drinkin- red-faced
Mrs. Kultti, my piano teacher
who lotioned up her hands
before lessons. Once she
bumped our coffee table and
breathed out Christian Science
Mrs. Edson, the janitress
at Goddard College who,
leaning on her mop, told
me her husband had just died.
I ran like the wind from
the room, and suffered the
rest of my life.
And freckeled Ruthie, her short
black hair flopping, as she cart-
wheeled across the lawn on
Marlindale, making Daddy proud.