Free Association’s Path – A Poem

We do not need a president ripping open already raw healing wounds and leading us to one side or the other. Well I don’t know about you but I sure as hell don’t need it.

Right now
I just want a Sugar Daddy
to tell me

there, there Baby
everything’s gonna be alright

and I wanna be lost
in some space and time
where I still believed
that could ever be true.

Ellespeth

When Selfies Were Rocket Science

We are working on our photo album.  This one, of my husband and his big brother, should win a prize.

Circa 1950:  How To Take A Selfie

1) Wait for Mom to go to the grocery
2) Have brother help you take down the bathroom medicine cabinet mirror
3) Bring that down to the back yard and prop it up
4) Get the camera
5) Lay on the ground. Face the mirror. Take your picture.

Ellespeth

When I Talk About Home – A Poem

When I Talk About Home

I know

I can’t  describe
the way a 4PM rain smells
at 5PM
when it’s a steam bath
walking home.

Or explain
why
I
rushed to a stage 3 times
to throw my bandana
to Willie Nelson
and how normal that felt.

Or paint for you
fully enough
or write a poesy perfect enough
about how the swamp
from a plane high above
brings salty tears
to the memories in my heart.

I know.

Ellespeth

Wash Yer Hands Dammit

A lot of the young tech workers, in our building, came home yesterday hauling bags and boxes of work in order to work from home for – seems like – the next three weeks.

I told David, this corona virus is like a hurricane. You know it’s going to hit but you don’t know where or how terrible it will be. So…We made a midnight grocery run last night to avoid being around too many people:

No Clorox or any other kind of wipes like that

No rubbing alcohol and minimal amounts of vodka and gin

No rice

No toilet paper

NONE OF MY FAVORITE PEANUT BUTTER!

No oatmeal

No eggs

Oddly, no dish washing powder

The store had moved Spam to a prominent location.

David is almost 80 years old. I don’t see how we can possibly keep watching the babies at the church two mornings a week while their mothers have time off and a breakfast. It’s too risky. I wouldn’t want to go alone either because I wouldn’t want to bring anything home to him. (not that I’m that young, I’m almost 70) And so we are going to self isolate ourselves as much as possible until we see where this thing is going in the Bay Area.

Unfortunately, this has forced me to read the news and to see once again what an idiot our president is:(    Words cannot express how distressed I have been for the last three years. Of course I get on  with it every day and all that but…deep at my core is the knowledge that my county has been forever changed by this presidency. I sense that to be true and have written about it privately. Some poems. Some stories. I’ll see where they lead.

Since I am on the internet anyway, reading the news, I will try to catch up here.

Wash yer hands dammit!

Ellespeth 

I Should Have Been A Country Song Writer

I spend a great deal of my time rooted in imaginings of past present moments. When I decide to put my work up on WordPress, I search the web for images that say something – I think anyway 😛 – about the poem/sometimes story.

Sometimes, I do flash fiction here on WordPress. Look at a photograph and write something about it in 100 words or less. I don’t do very well with those. I actually have a love/hate relationship with those.  Like doing a book report.

Then sometimes, like today, I walk by our kitchen table and see these tulips y,ou gave me yesterday, so beautifully wilted.  The present moment.  I take this picture thinking I could and will write a million words about these tulips one day. But they won’t be about tulips.

I’m making a healthy version of smothered round steak with onions and some kind of fancy frozen West Coast mushrooms that are way cheap frozen, and all the lettuce we didn’t use last week  – yum. What can I say? I’m a transplanted Southerner living in Silicon Valley. It’s Easter Sunday. Lent is OVER. Pig out marginally.

I should have been a country song writer. Those are really wonderful stories.