Today I discovered that we do have a fire alarm and it works.
Been reading a Jane Hirshfield book of poetry and I'm struck by the precise order in which her poems lay. Particularly Mathematics.
You see today what I burned on the stove was pasta. The rotini kind because I feel the corkscrew whole wheat curls pocket in all the sauce or pesto or whatever I season to taste them with. And that made me think of a few summers ago when I would make that pasta with that olive oil, chopped walnuts, garlic, s & p, and parmesan and serve it up to whomever was around. And that cream colored table where J.E. and I sat one afternoon staring at each other as my dear roommate was getting in another fight with her ex. It was good to have someone with me that afternoon. Other nights I would leave and lay on the grass outside, staring at the tree branches blooming above. I'd listen to Navigator's Throwing Tongues album over and over. (I never told you that, did I?)
There's only so much you can do for people. They've got to take care of themselves.
And you know, eventually she did.
And I stabbed the book Twilight and burned it with E and her sister.
Because I'd hurt too much to see and hear all that to read that even for a laugh.
Anyway, it was a good thing I had already decided I would eat some Indian food for lunch today.
PS. I saw Babies and How to Train Your Dragon. I liked them both very much, I did.
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