STUFF

Accumulation--

Must-have, non-necessities

Nano-second fix.

Just returned from a trip to L.A. piled high

with Phoebe's flotsam and jetsam from

Apartment living, which will now reside

in various containment vessels, all quite

swollen and strewn about the house,

lying dormant until reunited with owner,

Phoebe. This is a girl who does not

travel lightly, nor does she practice a

life of fashion minimalism. But, the

piles of "stuff" are lively and interesting

and are richly brimming with the essence of

her. In a quick glance I see a white

laundry basket piled full of all manner

of coffee table books. The one on the

top of the heap is called, Blue Note, and

features famous album covers done

during the hey day of Blue Note Records,

mainly designed by maestro, Reid Miles.

Next to the coffee table books in want

of a coffee table is a large see-

through plastic container piled high

with clothing that didn't quite make

the grade for the summer "experience"

and were left behind facing the

indignity of smashed quarters. I see

the winter camel's hair coat, the

vintage fur coat she bought

off of ebay for $30, tees, blouses, hmm

a denim blouse that might serve me

well this summer. She'll never know.

The framed and un-framed art that

gave a little pop to her Dunn-Edwards

antique white Westwood walls now sits

propped against her bedroom walls biding

their time until lifted again to eye level when

school resumes in the fall. My favorite

is an Andy Warhol poster of Blondie's

Debbie Harry; all oranges and blacks

and bright red lips. A black and white

Beatles picture stands against the closet

wall. They looked so young and fresh

and eager.They were her age. There's a mason

jar filled with an air plant and lots of air that

sits on her desk, sharing space with

my zillions of books I must read over

summer. Her precious Bonsai plant, a

gift from Justin, sits next to the air

plant awaiting some of my TLC. I

promised her that. This is just the

stuff that I'm eyeballing as I sit on

her very comfortable Beauty Rest

bed and word doodle on my

computer. There's a truck load of

stuff in the basement. And this

from a mere 21-year old.

She is well on her way

in the practice of accumulation;

a practice that seems to last a

lifetime. Normally I would

grouse over this a bit, sniping

about uber consumption and the

real meaning of economy. But now,

at this moment, it is oddly comforting

to behold the spectacle of overflowing

hampers that punctuate her life and

now punctuate mine.

Trigger

Triggering subject

Composition decomposed

A poem emerges

I'm reading a bit about poetry. Just a bit.

There's something called, The Triggering

Subject, which represents the kernel of the

idea that initially brings your pencil/pen

to paper or fingers to the keyboard. At least

that's poet Richard Hugo's take on it. But don't

get the idea that this kernel is a foundation, of

sorts, from which you construct your poem. Not

so! The trick is to get away from that triggering

subject, lest it subjugates you, and explore the

nooks and crannies of imagination that sometimes

gets lost in the drive to "communicate". It's an

interesting notion that didn't make sense to me

at first, but now I get. Imagination flutters on

its own breeze and is lost if caged. The triggering

subject is simply the launching pad from which

you plunge into the unknown. Here's my first

attempt at using this technique. By the way,

it's really fun to see where things go.

Situation Room

What's the situation in the situation room?

Here's the situation in the situation room.

Jump rope mantra, playgrounds, pigtails,

Around the world arms lift and dip,

Hot pepper 1-2-3-4, fast

Faster, pump it up, Double Dutch.

What's the situation in the situation room?

Here's the situation in the situation room.

Leather wingbacks, sleeves to elbows.

Madame Secretary sneezes

Operation Super Mario

High stakes, hot poker, poker-faced.

That's the situation in the situation room.