An American Poem

...I hopped
on an Amtrak to New
York in the early
'70s and I guess
you could say
my hidden years
began. I thought
Well, I'll be a poet.
What could be more
foolish and obscure.
I became a lesbian.
Every woman in my
family looks like
a dyke but it's really
stepping off the flag
when you become one.
...

- Eileen Myles

Tonight

Tonight I was going to write about the children's novel I just read, Swallows and Amazons, that has me completely enthralled. I was going to write about the booby traps and forts my cousin and I made one warm autumn afternoon on the hillside down the ravine behind his house in the Sierra Nevadas. I was going to tell you about my adventures. But instead, I am going to turn off the computer and the desk lamp. Instead I am going to reach over and kiss my love's forehead as I shut off her side light. I am going to crawl in bed beside her and in turn put the room into darkness so that I can breathe deeply, feeling her warmth and knowing that right now that is more important.

Lullaby of My Childhood -- From a Cassette

Tell me why the stars do shine
Tell me why the ivy twines
Tell me why the sky's so blue
And then I'll tell you
Just why I love you

Because God made the start to shine
Because God made the ivy twine
Because God made the sky so blue
Because God made you
that's what I love you.

Singing

I feel there are two times of each day when it is not only appropriate to sing to your lover, but actually perfect in the scheme of the day: in the morning as they wake and in the evening as their eyelids fall drowsily. This isn't to say you can't sing to your lover all day long, but that those times are particularly intimate and besides, the rest of the day you can actually sing together if you like.

My repertoire of songs, however, feels sorely lacking for such romantic occasions. The only lullaby I feel comfortable singing in my range is "Tell Me Why" and while it is lovely, it is more for the little ones. After that, my mind goes to "Good night, sweetheart, though I hate to go...ba da-da da bump..." or the song they sing in "It's a Wonderful Life" as they stand before the old house with broken windows. I'm obviously not doing so great on that last tune particularly since I even had to look up the name of the movie...

The morning, though, I think I've got it. The right pace, the right tune, the right range, the right sweetness:

Good morning, good morning,
the sun is shining bright for you
Good morning, good morning,
to you!

Sometimes I'll just sing it a few times over, long enough to get a little smile out of my lover and a little wiggle in my step. And that's all you really need I think in those moments. Well, and the sun shining maybe...

Hair Clippings

Draft #1

Snip, snip went the scissors,
her brown short locks
falling to the floor.

Snip, snip went the scissors
next on my blond hair long
joining hers on the linoleum.

Standing side by side,
we watched the hairdresser
sweep up the pieces of our hair
to mingle together for all eternity
in the floor vacuum of her salon.

Fish, Fish

Working at a resturant every Sunday, there is a potential to serve a lot of fish--about 1/3 of the menu on offer comes from the sea. I, myself, have never been a fish fan, but I love me some shrimp it has to be said--although many people look at me in disbelief when I clarify my sea-meat likings. They just seem puzzled.

On my break today, at the restuarant, I read this article in The Times: Chefs grilled over fish menus.

Some 'Fish for Thought' really, and now maybe I'll have a response next time I get those puzzled looks. What's on your plate tonight?