My Desk
She has a point
a very good point
Natalie Goldberg says
we have to write
where we are
even if we don’t like it much
and wish we were somewhere else
Even if we love where we are
and are as comfortable
as a mouse in a trap
neck broken
no problems
no more
Here I am at my desk
really a card table with a blue and gold
tablecloth imported directly from Sweden
covering it
I’m sitting in one of my old dining room chairs
There’s an empty water glass
style
Italian bar glass
next to my homemade planner
I’m listening to U2
Last Night On Earth
on my cheap Coby MP3 player
the kind you have to recharge
I prefer batteries like in my (probably)
rusty vibrators
I’m still almost certain that all U2 songs
are about me
a kind of reverse
megalomaniac paranoia
My desk is a mess
there’s a craft project under there
and 3 notebooks
and a tea coupon
and one for Joann’s
I probably won’t use because
I won’t be in Oly. ‘til April
It’s so hard to stay in the moment
There’s a mandala made up of thousands
of French knots
I did that
I think and feel like I’m lying
even if it’s the truth
There’s an old coffee cup with pens
one decorated with a fake poinsettia
highlighters
3 kinds of scissors
The other
a tea tin
(poetry mantra-don’t repeat yourself)
with Sharpie chisel-tip markers
and metallic pens, silver, gold and bronze
I won’t win a medal for this
A little basket with a Bonne Bell lip balm
flavor
Cotton Candy
(also the name of my sewing machine)
I name my machines
my red car
named Cherry
coincidence
(certainly)
and a stone heart
mookaite jasper
There’s a desk lamp
one fluorescent tube
missing
My heart as hard as stone
my light half-dimmed
It’s so hard to stay in the moment
3/5/14
© Anne Westlund
prompt: My (blank)
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