Hi readers! I'll be back tomorrow with a regular blog. For now, I leave you with this poem which first appeared in Staplegun.
Crush
My pool manager, Marshall, used to throw me in the deep
end as a sign of affection, no matter how much I tried to
get away. Twice my age, twice my weight, and half
my hair, he would yell – you be the victim today, kiddo –
and I would endure it because I liked him and his kids
who stayed with him in the summer as part of a new
divorce arrangement. One of his sons followed me
around my stations, his first crush, until Marshall
came up and put his arms around me, saying, “What
do you think? Could she be your new stepmom?”
His son looked as if he’d been thrown in the deep
end without expecting it, and I laughed, the choked
sound of someone who had been underwater too long.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"When one man, for whatever reason, has the opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself." Jacques Yves Cousteau
Cocktail Hour
Drinking television suggestion: The Secret Lives Of Women
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Monday!
8 comments:
How very TRUE, is your spell of the day. I have been priveleged to meet only one extraordinary person in my lifetime. He happened to be a professor. It wasn't the interesting, and often unorthodox instruction of how to write a paper or analyze a text that made him different, or even exceptional. It was the 'extra' instruction that made him stand out. It was the topic of living, and discovering oneself, the idea of following your own path, which was not in the syllabus, that made him extraordinary. The lessons were not just spoken words. This person truly practiced what he preached. And he truly preached in a most unusual manner. However, I applaud those who will spit in the wind, so to speak, and ignore caution and conformity and teach to those who have the courage to listen to something different. I wish more people would veer off the course of the conventional curriculum and teach from a position of experience. For me, that is the definition of an extraordinary man.
Phoenix Rising
I sat for an amount of time thinking before I had anything to say. Through my mind were roaming pictures of many times people through me in the deep end because we we're having fun, the many times people choked off my fervor because a "dream" had just been shattered and how I had to give a half choked back sound while I watched the water come over me momentarily while I recovered from the foolishness of being young.
But through it all we usually live and move away from that point, taking with us the new feeling that not all dreams are reachable but others can be had...once we're out of the water.
peace
mark
threw, God dammit, threw...fucking editors anyway.
mark
You are a truly talented writer. I loved this piece and the wonderfully descriptive way that it was written. Almost like I'm there with you. I especially like the last sentence; specifically, "and I laughed, the choked sound of someone who had been underwater too long."
You do these endings very well, Michelle. And I know how hard it is.
That poem kind of freaked me out.
You're all wet! Ha!--Phillipe Cousteau
Hey paisley, how's your memoir going?--Ian Paisley
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