Saturday, November 27, 2010


I wanted to be a rain salesman,
carrying my satchel full of rain from door to door
selling thunder, selling the way air feels after a downpour,
but there were no openings in the rain department,
and so they left me dying behind this desk -- adding bleeps
subtracting chunks -- and I would give a bowl of wild blossoms,
some rain, and two shakes of my fist at the sky to be living.
(John Engman, Work).

my own office. appointments. meetings. schedule. heels that click. suit that fits. hard work. money. morning coffee. sharp. success. capability.

waves. weekends. tacos. sand. bikini. sunflower bouquets. barefeet. stretching. farmer's markets.

city. public transportation. crappy apartment above a thai food restaurant. disco naps. silly secretary job you can make just enough to scrape by with. light up dance floors. loud music. bright red lipstick.

back to school. learning. loans. cross-legged reading on a bed in an oversized university t-shirt. nighttime coffee. binge eating cheez-its. future plans. future anxiety.

five hippie, happy kids bouncing on couch cushions. fall leaf piles. a golden retriever. breakfast around a huge kitchen table. housing mortgage. paper hearts. popcorn ball recipes. goodbye freedom.

a writer.

change the world.

jet set. passport. bloody mary's in airport bars. chic bangs. art museums. all white apartment. sushi. happy hour. magazine articles and reviews.

scholarly. quiet. campus. preservation. pursuit. frozen in time. mothballs. bookshelves, butterfly collections, black and white movies. travel grants. research grants. published. walk to work down tree-lined paths. ivory tower.

oklahoma city thunder. the room with the wood floors. banging out the door for a run or spin class. waitress. cold pizza. wine. boredom. anxious. indecision. in love. a four week countdown to South America. and incapable of seeing anything past that.
(life, just fall into my lap).