The Marathon journey continues. Search under the category Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018 for earlier entries.
To start off this poetry week, on June 26 I edited poems at Arcadia University, in the Landman Library. Things are going to be out of order for me, schedule-wise, this upcoming week and I’ve got to fit things in as I can.
I got to the library three minutes after it opened; the student desk worker was a little late and so the security guard was not sure what to do with me, a visitor, but then the assistant rushed in, apologizing for being tardy. We then fell into conversation about the old days at Arcadia (I took classes here about 15+/- years ago) and then I went upstairs to the reading room.
From the front window I saw these girls doing something with these hoops. I am mystified.
I did my work and around lunchtime I decided to walk home by circumnavigating the campus. It’s not large and I enjoy catching up with some of the sights. Remember that the college is built on the grounds of a former estate and that the main building, Grey Towers Castle, was the original mansion. Here are some pictures from around campus:
And here is the reason for those hoops set up on the green, I do believe:
On June 29, I made my way to Montco, back to Brendlinger Library. It’s very quiet – the college is between sessions.
Before I set up on the main floor, I chatted with Heather, the desk assistant – not only do I know her from the library but she also works at a local theater where I have attended productions. We have several things in common, us two random people put together by circumstance, don’t we – small world!
Look at how green and beautiful everything is here. We are entering a hot sunny weather period, and all the previous rain has made everything grow so lush and strong – it’s a perfect summer look here right now.
Exciting news: one of the tiny tiles has left the library:
This one is still here. Stay tuned.
All right. Down to work. This week is the last one for poems to be included in the current print book – I’ll be working on it after I edit today’s work next week. That means we are already halfway through 2018. People, enjoy each day, they are going fast, that is what I’m saying here…
I decided to write fast poems – where I just blurt out the words through my lightning-speed typing fingers – and I chose a time limit of one hour and prompts from phrases I had cut out here and there.
I choose these phrases because I get some immediate idea when I first read them, and so I thought they’d be good for a speed session. Also, this week has been choppy and chopped up my thoughts up, too. So staying short and quick is good for today.
Be considerate of others’ feelings.
to make a statement
she bought the sofa
and in a week the sofa
was making a statement to her
it didn’t like her
it didn’t like her living room
it would continue to attract
cat hairs and
dropped pizza slices
and scratch the floor with its pointy wooden legs
if she didn’t
admit that the relationship had soured
as soon as they both sat down
agree to work out
an amicable divorce
before things had to get ugly.
I got my hair cut yesterday.
Might have missed something?
yes it is possible of course
check the list again but I’m sure
I believe with all my heart
I’ve cut every single hair on your head
that needs it you look fine
and so I’ll just blow the hair dryer at you
you check the snipped bits that fly off and
see if any of them look wrong to you and
then we’ll find the hair that it came from and
make adjustments. Right? OK.
Like I said, I got my hair cut yesterday. A shadorma, this time.
I stare into it
I revise. Unfrown. Then smile.
Hairdresser smiles back.
I just brushed my teeth
but I can’t resist
your freshly made Vienna sausage cake
look the doctor has arrived
your infected toe
he’s going to put a rubber band around it
irritation and rash
a world of difference
a rash that comes and goes
a mosquito bite on my leg
a little bit pricey
that selection of hypersensitivity and regrets
the pre-nuptial agreement didn’t cover
No need to steal the arsenic
I have some here in this glass jar.
Next thing you know she’ll be flat out dead. You’re welcome.
my bald sweaty head full of terrified thoughts
I wish I’d run a mile in the opposite direction
my elderly knees, shins, and heels just didn’t permit it
even for a pensive cow
currently stuck at this location
it was a lot to ask
I let that venomous snake
inject poison into your system
I did it out of sheer love
I just wanted single but with a good back story
I just wanted to brag about my trail of limping ex-boyfriends
I just wanted one more heartbreak
I slapped his cheek.
it’s not much of a story
I pried open the shark’s jaws
I saved the baby, the grandfather, the dog
I only wish I could have reached the picnic basket
the nomads chopping carrots
the hotel maid paying off her boyfriend
the child drinking a double espresso
just what I saw before breakfast in this crazy town
packed the sunscreen in my beach bag
focused on the nonsense tunes in my brain
the survival course starts tomorrow
take the money and fade away
I offer it to you in precisely eleven increments
now print your name on the form and be gone
recycling glass bottles
it started as a nervous habit
that long weekend so many years ago
the bored hairdresser
rinsing the soap out of my hair
ice water coming out of the sprayer
the new babysitter
makes a fantastic banana/ketchup sandwich
all of my joints ache all night long
the trouble they put me to
a bottle of tepid diet soda is my only relief
it’s sort of a seasick kind of existence
a smell of garlic and French cooking
pilfered cigarettes and licked-off lipstick
Thank you for reading! See you next time.