Homemade cream of mushroom soup leads to disaster - Poem: The Phlebotomist at Quest Diagnostics

Cream of Mushroom Soup, made with soy milk (or almond milk). I stepped away from the gas range for no more than two minutes. When I returned the soup had bubbled over and an inch of soup, mushrooms and vegetables were down in the guts of the gas range.

Uncleanable.

I'm not gonna complain about my lack of money or how I detest spending money, but I bought an electric cooktop from my friend Joe Moore at Gerhard's Appliance, done over the phone.


It's on order. My electrician Mike will install it. Mike always undercharges me. I said to Scott, he'll charge me $20 and I'll give him an $80 tip.

Movies! I've seen a few. Gods and Monsters - 1998 - with Shakespearean actor Ian McKellen, who plays the director of Frankenstein and other films. As an aging homosexual, he is attracted to Brendan Fraser




Above is photo of Cousin Lloyd, who I thought resembled Ian McClellan.

Back to my gas range.

I had the cleaning job of my life ahead of me, lifting up the white panel and using every towel I had to sop up the soup

 Old Caloric gas range. I packed up the knobs and burners and put em in a plastic bag for Trash Day the morrow.

Kept one burner alive to cook on. Eggs, my fave.

Reviewed the Compass proofs last nite, brewing a cuppa decaf. You know what? It doesn't really keep me awake, but I sure love the taste.

Bedtime reading included

Written in 1930, Eng. translation 1934. Gotta finish in a week for my Book Club.

Anything else you wanna bore your readers with Ruthie?

Yes! Certainly.

MAIL CALL:

"Your Red Cross Supporter Card enclosed." TRASH

Request for more money from WHYY - TRASH

Credit Card bill - HANDLE WITH CARE - am eligible for dividend check of $50 which will help offset new cooktop

Huge cache of junk mail - TRASH. Will help my township make park benches from it.

THE PHLEBOTOMIST AT QUEST DIAGNOSTICS

She walks on silent feet

Naya

draped in a floor-length

blue scrub

let’s call it a ball gown, as she glides

from room to room

attending patients

who take to her

curious about a Muslim

in our midst

her black headdress

only accentuating

an expectant face and

wide eyes that scream

with tenderness and

love of humanity

We say nothing about

Muslim atrocities

that wound our world

or revenge-seekers

doling out meanness and

killings and a made-up

code of ethics suitable

for a diaper-wearing

toddler.

I tap my book

The only time I get to read I say

She, too, is a reader,

as I surrender my left arm

and hold it out

the silver needle

penetrates then probes

quickly finding gold

or shall I say dark rivers

I watch her, Hagar,

mother of Ishmael,

and all of Islam

as she fills four clear tubes

with long deft

sparrow fingers

and unvarnished nails

We sit, afterward, as she

writes out the order

and asks for my signature

I sign slowly to prolong

our encounter

my mid-day meditation

with Naya the Phlebotomist.