Bargain Hunting in Life’s Estate

There are days in which I hate the culture.

Today, because my hair is pulled back so tight,

is one.

Tight hair is the proponent

of cynicism;

in contrast,

loose, wavy cascades are the harbinger

s of rosy, undeodorized happiness.

It is why school teachers beat children.

and beach curls are an association with oblivious

-ness.

I went to buy fruit and tea

at the supermarket

(with my hair down) and

such was

the experience required to

restore

my utmost faith in humanity.

It is funny how buying fruit

and a little more tea

can take despair and shove it

below the cloudline.

Where there are clouds, there are limitations.

To limit despair itself is to say I shall write a list.

Today, from that point on, is full

Of the scent of

Good wine

Good music

Good company.

Here, I remind myself what I work for:

I want to own one set of bone china.

I want to wash my dishes, and

have them washed for me.

I want to cook with nowhere to be.

I want to be cooked for.

I want to wear diamonds inside.

I want to wear them outside.

I want

To take

A bath inside a tub that can hold me and

one other.

I desire to fall asleep in the bath.

I want to eat french bread and look at my bookshelves.

[i do not so much want a dog as I want to

smell

my life.]

I want to smile every time I pay for fruits,

berries,

tea.

And beautiful flowers. And dinners with good company.

And

pain

au chocolat.

And a surplus of silence.

Because silence costs so much.

I’d like to choose to walk.

To choose to sit.

I crave the adventureeeeeeeeeeeee e e e e e e

of the nineteenth century through a jungle; and inside

a (big!) balloon.

I want good perfume, the kind that is damn good, that not even God can call vain.

I want a green thumb so that I may grow a tree;

a steady hand so that I may chop it down.

I want to lay on the day

bed, in these nudes. And wet!

From the shower, in the tepid heat of early Evening.

I want the tea I’ve bought today. I want to drink it. I want to say it tastes good.

I want to taste nicely the way the tea tastes good to me.

I want to spend much of myself on silence. On loveliness. On pine cones and iris petals.

I want to spend all of myself on silence, and not count these costs.

Silence costs so much. The most.

Initially published in Vocivia Magazine*