When she moved away, I took a picture of one of the things she had written:
Can you read that? It says "BIOACTIVE" with a little molecule of something drawn next to it. I'm in love with this kid.
At the end of class, each table usually passes around a sheet for people to sign in on, and this time, the little girl started the sheet, writing her name in big letters across the top. Then she said good night to me and she and her mom went off to eat pie.
I came home and we had nachos for dinner, then chocolate for dessert. Someday, when I grow up, I'm going to eat vegetables.
Today has been kind of a bust. I have the worst headache and it's, like, stuck to me. My rescheduled eye exam is this afternoon, so that should be fun. After, we're going to Costco. That may kill me.
By the Throat
This poem, by Cate Marvin, has me by the throat today:
On Parting
Before I go let me thank the man who mugs you,
taking your last paycheck, thank the boss who steals
your tips, thank the women who may break you.
I thank the pens that run out on you midsentence,
the flame that singes your hair, the ticket you can't
use because it's torn. Let me thank the stars
that remind you the eyes that were stars are now
holes. Let me thank the lake that drowns you, the sun
that makes your face old. And thank the street your car
dies in. And thank the brother you find unconcious
with bloody arms, thank the needle that assists in
doing him in—so much a part of you. No thanks
to the skin forgetting the hands it welcomed, your
hands refusing to recall what they happened upon.
How blessed is the body you move in—how gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment