Saturday in CinCity
Our local grocery store is closed due to financial troubles and, though it sounds a bit melodramatic, I am heartbroken. Our entire neighborhood has been taken by surprise and the effect is more than the loss of a convenience. Many neighbors here don't drive so a local grocer is a necessity for them. We have two blind neighbors in Clifton. They could call ahead with their orders. At times the food was delivered or ready for pickup or an employee would walk with them through the store picking out items.
More than that for me, I would see my neighbors there and find out the scuttlebutt of the week, solve the political problems of the city, see old friends from the days when my grrrls were in grade school and on soccer teams, and talk to the firefighters from the station house next door. Sold our pickup truck to police officer Wilson, who moonlighted there, and admired Detective Meyers' grandbaby photos--his daughter worked in my unit at BigFatTeaching Hospital. We've been to a funeral of an employee there, CollegeGrrrl has been to weddings and baby showers from her stint as a cashier, she even stopped in before senior prom because they wanted to see her dress.
And, we can no longer run up to the grocery store multiple times
in a day to buy whatever it is that I forgot to get on the last trip. That has been a huge kick in the pants. If I have to drive out to Surry Square or go to that horrible Krogers on Spring Grove you can damn well bet this chickadee is not going to be forgetting anything on the grocery list. Maybe that's a good thing, but still I miss MarkieMark coming up to me in the produce section asking me what my recipe is for tonight's dinner.
Translation for Chaka Khan's verse--"pull up the big girl pants." Sounds prettier in French...
I Have Lived This Way for Years and Do Not Wish to Change
by Michael Blumenthal
I hope you'll forgive the black paint
on my windows, the smell of cat litter
in the kitchen. Guests complain sometimes
that my collection of Minoan cadavers spoils
their appetite, or that having the shower
in the living room creates too much moisture,
but I think you'll grow used to it
if we get to be friends.
Yes, it is kind of inconvenient
having the bed strapped to the ceiling,
but I've grown so accustomed to the view
of my Max Ernst carpet that I hardly think
I could sleep with gravity anymore.
Why thank you, it was a gift from my lover's husband
after our honeymoon in Cincinnati. I do think
it goes well with the orange bedroom set, the burgundy curtain.
See, you're feeling quite at home already.
Don't be shy.
Help yourself to the jellyfish, the goose down,
the chocolate-covered cotton balls.
For something a bit more thoughtful, please visit my friend, Lydia. That's a poem to keep in my pocket.
please note: photo art by Tamaleshuck on Flickr