The Unkindest Cut of All
Well, it's another nice day- the heat has held off, but my lawn is turning yellow from lack of rain. My folks just got back from Prince Edward Island, where there was a big family reunion going on. I would have liked to go, but didn't think I could get the time off from work. Ironic. The pictures I saw looked really nice- I'll definitely have to get up there sometime. The soil is a weird reddish-brown color everywhere. The color isn't weird, so much as it's so consistent. All the dirt looks the same! Here in CT there's sand, loam, loose soil, and so on. Not that I spend a huge amount of time contemplating dirt. I haven't had much opportunity to go out running as of late- I managed to fall down the cellar stairs. Nothing serious, but it was literally a pain in the tail. I was going down the stairs and slipped, resulting in an unexpected seat halfway down the staircase. Talk about the worst places to hurt yourself! I found I could still get up, and move around stiffly- nothing broken or overly damaged, but it hurt like hell. After peeling the paint with a string of inspired profanity, I found I was a little too sore to move too fast, let alone run. Genetics has been less than generous in this regard, so the old bones took a bit of a beating, but all is pretty much well. I think I'll have to try getting out for a hike this weekend.
Trouble
Breakfast table-trouble
in a teacup, seeming
less significant now than
yesterday, already
fading to sepia tones
less ominous,
running down the drain, I
hear it rattling through miles of
pipes, washing out
to the ocean- it
all comes back in the end
digested, broken down ,
soaked into earth
Trouble
Breakfast table-trouble
in a teacup, seeming
less significant now than
yesterday, already
fading to sepia tones
less ominous,
running down the drain, I
hear it rattling through miles of
pipes, washing out
to the ocean- it
all comes back in the end
digested, broken down ,
soaked into earth
posted by Tenryu at 8:44 AM
2 Comments:
Your poem sounds rather like the song from "The Point" by Harry Nilsen "Sit beside the breakfast table/think about your troubles/Pour yourself a cup of tea and think about the bubbles" it goes on about throwing your tears in the river where they go into the ocean and get swallowed by a whale who dies and decomposes and they end up back in the tea cup. Or, as the old adage says, what goes around comes around. Hope your bones are feeling better.
There's a song I haven't heard for a LONG time! I remember that LP from when I was a kid, but completely forgot about it until just now. Perhaps a subconscious tribute to that old song.
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