itesser ink: progress, uncensored

DRAFT DRAFT DRAFT DRAFT DRAFT.

Newlywed

i.
So deeply wanting
this moment
--captured--
to go perfectly
on and on.

Take hold of this memory,
cast it into columns
and save it for
decades to come.


ii.
Home from the grocery store we begin working,
sharing the stove and the sink.
I hand you an open bottle of Guinness.
We pause twice--in tandem--to drink.

I at my chopping block, you at your oven,
ready our meals for the next week.
Between drying the spinach and baking potatoes,
sniffs and spoons of the dishes, we sneak.

Past midnight in the kitchen, tangling hands
as we stand hip to hip to stir the curry.
Soon we'll seal the food and scrub clean the counters
but I, for one, am in no hurry.

May I repeat "first draft"?

I'm still not sure what's going on within part 2. Or part one, for that matter. Mismatched shoes. I am childishly fond of having a meta section and a concrete details section. Drrrrrraaaafft!

--

Earlier today I got super lucky and accidentally bought The Muppets: A Green and Red Christmas album on mp3 for $0.99. I think the offer expired soon after that. I'm not usually one for Christmas music, but it's the MUPPETS.

I said I bought it "accidentally"... When Amazon says "Buy this with 1-Click!(r)", they are not kidding about the "one click" part. Learning experience!

--

Deciding the Next Decider: The 2008 Presidential Race in Rhyme. Need I say more?

Calvin Trillin (author) on The Daily Show and NPR.

--

Reagan and I hit a budget goal today, so we promptly went out and spent a bunch of money so we can hit that goal again next paycheck.

. . .

That amuses me. (And isn't really true.)

Observing the people in a grocery store after 10pm in the suburbs is fun, especially the couples. A lady and her man-friend who walked in behind us were joking around about one of them being a hooker and what different pay rates entitles the buyer to. "Seventy dollars for special requests" is a phrase that sticks out in my memory.

After coming home, Reagan and I talked for a while before even getting out of the car, then brought our bounty inside and spent a couple hours in the kitchen together, something that doesn't happen often enough. The poem is pretty accurate. I wrote bits and pieces in my head while washing the rice, then other bits and pieces while cleaning up the rice cooker. Sharing the kitchen--any kitchen--with him is the kind of memory most precious to me. I want to affix as many as I can as many ways as I can. Poetry is just one I hadn't gotten around to yet.

When it's really late and R and I are out of our room, it almost feels like we have the house to ourselves.

Labels: memories, mini world, poem, scannies