Sunday, February 28, 2010

messy again.

She reorganized my desk.
There were papers stacked like Jenga towers
and you couldn't see the base of it.
Pens and notes and envelopes and stamps
and hand lotion and highlighters and baby wipes
and Chuck the Beaver and a Christmas card
and glasses and Chapstick and scuff marks
like battle damage on an action figure.

Order from chaos, salvation from sin
aluminum cans to the recycling bin
pencils to cup and highlighters to drawer
and it's not so messy anymore.

Months pass
and I've written a letter.
By hand, no less
and this is a rare thing.
I've been able to find a pen
[hiding behind the printer]
I've stumbled across a sheet of paper
[ducking under cover of keyboard]
I've managed to find an empty envelope
[concealed in my file cabinet]
but I don't know where she put my stamps.

There's now a spot on my desk where a sealed, stampless envelope sits
and we've all got some work to do right now
so I hope--
in a month
or two
or maybe seventeen hours
or three days--
that I'll remember where it is.
It's very well-written, and I've been
working on my penmanship.


Kels H. said...

I like it.

Martha is occasionally blasphemous, but this *is* a lovely creation.

emilyf said...

good heavens this is wonderful. I love that second stanza... and the rest of it, too. I progressively get jealous b/c before i knew you were good at prose and felt I could add something to your life with my poetry, but now I see you're good at that, too. Well, some of us were just born with it all, huh?