the important things

...are still intact.

her smile
her one-of-a-kind
sense of humor
the color
of her personality

i can't
take my eyes
off her

no
one-size-fits-all
teenager, this.

compassion.

he has
a mind of
his own
and a heart
that goes out
to the world.

i am proud
to call him
my child.

spread no evil.

he said
she said
he said
i
was to blame.

in that case
the end
was inevitable
really.

Serenity...

...comes slowly
when we are
in the thick
of things.

Hallelujah
here it is.

The Doberman.

She's a champion
I can tell
by the gait
her owner's, that is.

macy day.

she has the face
of an angel
and the voice
of a vixen.

i kiss her
cheek
so
she will know.

The sign says "cantina."

I order a glass of red wine anyway.
The bartender
reaches in the cooler.
I look away
this feels painful.
The pink of the zinfandel
catches the light.
It's pretty
but not what I asked for.

Pacing back and forth
he finds red wine.
We have a Merlot
and a Cabernet Saw-vigh-nun
I think he might be joking
but he is dead earnest.
Hey, I'm not French.

That's quite ok
what matters is
you are real.

Fear and loathing...

...in office space.

She told her
who told him
who told her
who told me
that I was on my way out.

Funny thing is
her office
sits next to mine.

Syriana.

We each laid claim
to the leading men...
...yes, there was
more than one.

They were both dead
in the end.

Margaret Atwood.

How much longer
can I be so fucking cute,
she says.
Not much longer.
...when I was all body, I was lazy.
I had an easy life and was not grateful.
Now there are more of me.
Don't confuse me with my hen-leg elbows:
what you get is no longer
what you see.

I memorize each line
as though it were mine.

Jealousy.

Her face is flat
as if
someone had stepped
on her nose
pushing down strong and hard.

Or maybe it is just
the way
I am narrowing
my eyes at her.

10 a.m.

I blogged some more
I am whispering on the phone
from work.
You bought a new lawnmower?

2 p.m.
I bought a new lawnmower.
I'll go upstairs and read it, she says
without missing a beat.

She was a journalist...

...unhappy with her newspaper.
She had only been there a week.
We were 2000 miles apart.
I hate this job.
Call me, she says.
Ok, I'll pretend
I am your sick child
wanting you to come home.
She answers on the second ring.
Mom, I have explosive diarrhea
and I...my...my butt hurts.
I giggle like a teenager.
She's quiet, very quiet.
I'm sorry - I know your boss
sits right across from you.
I'll be home in a few minutes, honey
she reassures me.
She gathered her personal belongings
and walked out of that newspaper
for good.

I have the utmost
respect for her decision.

Caught with my pants down.

We arrived early
to snatch
fourth row seats.
Right up front
is where I want to be, I told her.
I stood up
to head to the bar next door.
She was squealing,
your ass...YOUR ASS...
your pants...pull them up.
Not sure which was worse
the theater's view of my ass
or her squealing.

I wanted to be invisible
I left with my head held high.

We were standing...

...in Jen's kitchen.
The evening anchor's
artist man
is from Santa Rosa, California
I have been there, I tell him.
He asks the inevitable
where are you from?
India.
I look up to see him
laughing at me from
across the room.
What, I squint at him.
I cannot believe
you are playing that card.
What card?
The "I am from India" card.
I cross the room
to kiss his laughing mouth.
Piss off, I am laughing too.
I liked that he knew
enough to call me
on my bullshit.

My beautiful freak.

David
I am sorry you are not the one for me.

David.
I am sorry.
You are not the one for me.

It's your margaritas, you see.
You drink them slushy.

The sun (part deux.)

Yay. YAY!
need I say more.

Three happy days.

A young mother in line
at the grocery store
pries a candy bar
from her child's hand.
How about you try
to have three happy days
in a row and we'll
come back for that?

The child is maybe three years old.

Three happy days?
In a row?
How do you define "happy"?
I want to negotiate on behalf
of this child.
Does she have to smile often?
Tell a joke? What?

As best as I can tell
the candy bar
would have bought her
one happy day.

Dear John.

He was at least sixty
when we met.
Come back and
cheer us up sometime
he would yell
as I left work each day.
He and I played
buzzword bingo
at important meetings
We crossed off
"synergy" "utopic" "state-of-the-art"
and touched our noses
in silent victory
when all the buzzwords were used up.
It was our little secret.
I bought him a can
of "bullshit spray"
air freshener
He brought it to meetings
and set it in the center
of the conference table.
Luci was his favorite target.
He would stand up
and raise the can with a flourish
spraying all around him.
She loved to hate him.

Dear John
come back
and cheer us up sometime.

Joel's piercing.

It had been
the talk of the office
for days.
Joel and I walked
into the elevator
we were the only ones there.
I smiled at him.
It's true, he said.

With no assistance
from me
my eyes were drawn downwards.

This was years ago.
His hair is shorter
these days
and he no longer
wears black.

He's nineteen.

I remember him at one
dragging behind him
an open bottle
of vegetable oil
scooting faster
up the stairs
looking over his shoulder
to see me.

Buckets of soap
and a lot of apologies later
we were safe
in our apartment again
his fat fists
grabbing my hair
mama.

I am glad
he still calls me mama...not mom.

The sun.

dear god, where has it been
all this time?
Now that it's finally here
I have itchy feet.
We should have sun-days
up here - official holidays.

I can tell...

...he's been drinking.
It's a monthly event these days,
the drunken phonecall.
Every word, every syllable is
careful...emphatic.
It's a message on my answering machine
at work.
Your young (pause) son (pause)
his birthday (pause)
yes?

It makes me smile.
Quod me nutrit
me destruit.
What nourishes me
also destroys me.

I guess the same
could be said for him.

My heart...

...has suction cups
like those toys
you see in car windows
and it attaches itself
to strange moving objects...
always on the inside
looking out.

You need to stop, he says
you are wearing me out.

Laundering money.

I found eight dollars
in coins
wedged between
the washer and dryer.

His interest lies...

...in being interesting.

They do have that in common.

Wouldn't you rather...

...wear light-up shoes
and be a little girl?
He was making her laugh.

Look at you.
All grown-up.

I would rather be a little boy
and play with my dinky toys.

But you are all grown-up, I said.

All grown-up?
I am practically dead.

Well, he's right about that.

There is no such thing...

...as success, he told me once.
It is fleeting.
Once you get there, you cannot stay.

I mean, if you stay
you are no longer successful, right?
You are only stalling.

Easy for you to say.

I am...

...a part of the past.
They do not want me teaching
literature to the graduate students.

Literature is for the undergrads.

Barry seems relieved about this.

She paused...

...for effect
looked down and said
"sex is like pizza. when it's good, it's great.
when it's bad...
it's still pretty good."
"Jesus loves you. Everyone else thinks
you are an asshole."
That's my favorite one, I said.

Everyone in the room laughed around us.
We were talking about bumper stickers.

It was beginning to feel like a competition.

It made him uncomfortable

to hear about the crush.
it was him
I was crushing.

What I like about her...

...she laughs sincere
and easy.
you must know what I mean.

The truth about turbans...

they say...
to me, it's also the same anymore
turbans, turnips, and the truth.

At the Irregardless Cafe...

...in raleigh, nc, they serve
chambord and drambuie
and scallops seared
to a tender brown.

I should go sometime.