- Covert Covid
I spent so much time as a child hiding and waiting that I am
really good at doing this thing that we have to do right now.
So we hide and we wait but we’re not really sure how long we have to do this.
So I know that’s why I am getting itchy skin and restless legs syndrome.
And I find most other people really hard to take.
A policeman on the street corner near to me
yells at an old lady. Construction workers spit in your path. Mask wearers versus non-mask wearers have set battle lines and there is going to be a fight this Saturday at 2:04 PM on the corner of Harrison and Santa Rosa. A duel. Sharp tongues used as weapons and nobody has a second. Or a third or even the first. A first.
Someone asked me what it was like the first time I knew I was in love. I told them it was so long ago I couldn’t remember.
I guess it might honestly be right now with my puppy who jumps on my head in the early morning but does it so gently it feels like butterflies on my eyes. The first time she did it I was astonished.
I force myself to leave the house. Yesterday I went to the dentist and it was terribly exciting. I have a canker sore. She asked me if I was stressed. Then we both couldn’t stop laughing.
On NPR two scientists announced that the general population was drinking too much. For some reason I have always hated the obvious.
The biggest thrill is going to the supermarket. Now I’m eating things like tuna melt and macaroni and cheese balls. Before too long I’ll be a chubby old lady. I don’t really care. Yesterday my cousin said he didn’t really care either.
I’ve always loved that particular cousin. It’s hot now and it might be hot for a while.
I can’t hold my breath underwater anymore as I feel like I’m drowning even if I’m not in the pool.
- My first book interview
- Please log in to my book party on Wednesday, October 7th, at 5:30 pst
No purchase necessary just register! Can’t be bad to give a bookstore your email address!
- A great review for The Favorite
- The Best Memory
The best Fall I remember happened outside of Paris due
north near Chambord in November maybe October
when the Beaujolais Nouveau was released along with
me…I walked out
the door of the inn we stayed in
while you drank with our host.
I wandered following troughs of wet leaves marking
the crusades and the dark fall all yellow
smelling of dank and my life as an
obedient pathfinder Joan of Arc
wanting you to worry I was lost
yet knowing you never would.
Hours later I reluctantly returned just as I used
to at 8 and still no one noticed.
I think we made love that night
as we usually did but the bed was small, you
said, as you moved across the parquet floor
to the adjacent one
and closer to your children across the
Atlantic and I imagined
us leaving in the morning croissants uncurled
and me dressed in black because you said it was
best and before I knew it we were back in
California and you were married again
yet I was still outside of Paris in November
in 1996 longing for something I had felt
for a brief moment but never again.