My Thoughts on Velcro -  Two Happy Left Feet
 
I buttoned my coat sideways today.
A little like me,
sealed,
but the seams don't match.

I'm standing backwards on a bus 
because there isn't enough room to 
turn around.
Nor do I want to.

Because even if there was room,
if there weren't so many
people
headed to the same place I am.
And assuming I wanted to see where 
I was going
instead of where I'd immediately been.
I have just plain to much baggage 
to allow me to turn around.

Such a simple pivot is made amazingly
complicated
by the weight
of the words
that i carry in a beach bag
by my hip.

There are the planners,
and calendars,
the interesting bit of plastic I found
on the street this morning
that I thought might be useful
even though I can't imagine what for.
And there are the color-coded
red-green-blue
seven-forty-five-to-half-past-when
schedules.

That heap of organization 
would tumble and bubble
pell-mell
from the bag by my hip
(that matches my jacket
and scarf
and the cuffs on my mittens
that no one can see anyway).

All of my right-angle efforts
neatly-filed papers
planners
and crisp-edged folders
risk being defiled
on the muddy-boot rivers
that run the length of the aisle.

All of it would explode
if I were to try 
to turn around.

So I stand there
sandwiched like so much tuna
between a man I am sure showers 
less often than I cut my hair
and a woman
wearing almost enough perfume
to cover him up.

I ponder all of this
and I decide
I'm fine.
In fact,
I am perfectly content
to watch the green light 
on the back of the bus
inform me that it is now safe
to open the door.




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    Poetry/Essays

    Ever since I was little I have enjoyed playing with words.  I recently went through some of my old journals (which I have been keeping since my freshman year of high school) and dug up some of my favorites.  Some of them I revised a little, and some I left as is.  Not all of the sentiments still ring true, but it is an interesting experience for me to reread and share them.  It's a little like opening an old letter from someone you haven't talked to in ages.  I am still writing plenty and I'm sure that there will be more poems and essays about my current experiences here soon.  Buen provecho!

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