pleated skirts, a lioness and a woman with a rakish hat
No, E.J., I won't kill you. To quote my charming ex-wife, if I killed you it would eliminate my opportunity to make the rest of your life a living Hell.
Also, despite the fact that my new poem "Catholic Schoolgirl Fantasy" is not what I care to be known for, so much, it is charming and I didn't tell you not to post it. Taking it down now would only aggravate the situation.
I did spend much of the night writing. Some of it heavy, some of it light, some about a woman I encountered at the bookstore yesterday. Being the coward I am, I never got her name or gave mine, but I observed her for a few minutes, in the Starbuck's at Barnes & Noble in Granville, then had a brief conversation with her at the information desk. She was tall, mid-thirties (she gave her age, I would have guessed her mid to late twenties) with a mane of dark-blonde hair and a smile that invoked the notion of biting into a tart apple. I don't know why. But when my preconscious sets off a metaphor or simile that quickly or pleasantly, I listen. Very lovely. And I will probably never encounter her again in this life.
Sigh.
Actually my main conundrum right now, female-wise, is Jasmine. I am very drawn to her, and she is pleasant enough to me, but I can't seem to penetrate the shell she keeps up. I am trying to be surgical, even delicate, as I have no desire to startle her (invoking more defenses) or upset her (alienating her). I am exasperated. She is bright, lovely, gentle and very unusual in my experience. My first instinct is to get on my amour armour, find a white horse and carry her off to a castle someplace.
I actually like it when that part of my awakens. Innately, I am the champion. I should just ask her what I am to her, but that seems so...so...dangerous. Am I ready to be crushed? Is my ego strong enough to survive reality?
3 comments:
Yes, you should just ask her. There is a social protocol, and perhaps that is the best way for her to feel safe enough to open up to you. She is probably a closet princess, just waiting for an invitation. I don't know who in the hell she is, but you should probably follow your heart, and see where it leads. You don't want to be stuck writing versions of "The Road Not Taken" for the rest of your life, do you?
Step Up, W, you deserve some happiness.
Ms. Peach
Ms Peach,
Really?
Really. Not sure what you mean...the skirts, blouses, The remorseful poem, or my opinion of your poem? Did you ever see Sister Mary Ignatious? A good Seattle friend of mine was in that production a couple of years ago. Someone I used to work with, but have lost touch with in the last few years. I think I'll look her up, contacting old friends and associates has been kind of my theme lately. It has worked out well for me thus far...
Or was it the you deserve some happiness part you were questioning? I haven't met anyone more deserving of that for a long time. You do.
Or, as my imaginary friend, Ogden Nash said: Reallio, and Trulio.
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