10 Things At My Elbow

Today, dear Imaginary Reader, I have called in sick to Summer Vacation. I just don't feel like it. August Ennui and all that. The most I can muster is to take stock of what's lying about the old desk blotter.

1. A card from a florist, with sunflowers and red asters on a marbled background. "Sorry about last night - Paul."

2. A photocopy of a 500 franc note. For illustrative purposes.

3.A photo, dated 1932. My grandparents on the roof of 801 70th Street, Brooklyn. My 2 year old dad looks at the camera quizzically. He will soon realize it is one of his best friends.

4. A photo of the eldest son and youngest son on Santa's lap, ca. 1996. The eldest is 13; the youngest 8. It is one of the last times they will get along together. Thankfully, cell phones will be invented so that they can call me regularly and let me know how much they annoy each other.

5. A photo of myself, at 5 years of age: pigtails, white mary janes and I am twirling my sundress out like a parachute.

6. The fortune cookie fortune: "Ignorance on fire is better than knowledge on ice." The girl at the Chinese restaurant has had her baby- a boy. The older women who work there, and who live in apartments over the shop,  take turns walking the little boy up and down the sidewalk, pointing at cars, trucks, drunks. It takes a village.

7. Two fingertip bandaids, or "coverlets". Latex free! A painter I know falls off a ladder, spilling paint all over the front of him. His assistant calls an ambulance, and they pack him in on the gurney, covered in paint. As they drive to the hospital, the EMT suddenly has trouble breathing, and becomes shocky.They move the painter from the gurney and start treating the EMT for anaphalactic shock. He had a latex allergy.

8. A list of the Seven Dwarves and the Seven Deadly Sins. Trying to match up aliases.

9. The list of books I have on hold at the library: David Foster Wallace. P.G.Wodehouse. Short Stories. Vivian Swift. The new library is nice, but you find your own holds on the hold cart. This allows you to look at books that other people have on hold as well. Really? She's reading that? Last week, some teenagers, smoking in the new library bathroom, flushed some cigarettes down the toilet, plugging up the sewer. The plumber came to clear the drain and while he was inside, his truck caught on fire. The moral of the story is that libraries can be dangerous places.

10. a fragment of a poem, not written by me:

"i'm not certain, but I used to
spend hours, I think one day I was
on here about 10 hours,
last summer or so, maybe 12,
and now I just don't have any
drive to log on. I don't feel it is
a waste of time, maybe
I've found and accomplished 
the challenge of public voice,
or to a point
I was comfortable with." 


What's at your elbow, Peter? Even if you don't have the detrius at your elbow-tips that I do, I'm sure something is there.

And here is something for you.
Though don't feel obligated to run outside.


I Ran Out Naked in the Sun
                    Jane Hirshfield


I ran out naked
in the sun
and who could blame me
who could blame

the day was warm

I ran out naked
in the rain
and who could blame me
who could blame

the storm

I leaned toward sixty
that day almost done
it thundered
then

I wanted more I
shouted More
and who could blame me
who could blame

had been before

could blame me
that I wanted more