SHIRT
by Mr. Charles
Simic
To get into it
As it lies
Crumpled on the floor
Without disturbing a single crease
Respectful
Of the way I threw it down
Last night
The way it happened to land
Almost managing
The impossible contortions
Doubling back now
Through a knotted sleeve
 |
Up late reading last night, deciding
what to sell and what to keep, came across this Simic poem and it somehow
spoke to me, reminded of that rainy night driving with Andrew and Andi to
see a mediocre movie during whose climactic
scenes I could not concentrate, having as I did to pee.
The books are lovely, dusty and deep, with thoughts carefully arranged as
vases, family crystal untouched for years, Mom with cancer, Babi losing her
mind, it fell to me to clean out the house, lifting crystal, music tinkles,
the undusty circle for the first time in decades breathes.
So I feel knotted up, doubling back, all these boxes so long languished in
5x5 storage closet in Baltimore, retrieved in rented minivan, midsummer heat,
6,500 miles driven in 12 days, all in the service of ink on page. Steinbeck,
Corso, Burroughs, good bye, you've all been so very good to
me... |
