Dappled and Drowsy
Dappled in Singapore time (morning) and drowsy in Boston (feels like deep night). I am back, after an epic journey — we missed our train from Newark by something like 5 minutes and had to take two buses home. Did you know that when you take a Greyhound from Port Authority to Boston you are told to go and wait at an unmarked spot called “Area X”, absent from any station map, which is basically a random side door in the building? And that when “Area X” gets shut down and the Boston bus is now boarding from an actual gate (60) no one will be there to tell you? I have a complaint letter in me somewhere, I know it, but it is not for tonight. After all, we did make it on the bus.
For tonight I am going to share with you something Len just wrote for me, which is awfully sweet because I think this is probably the only time anyone has ever composed lines of poetry about me besides that one time when I was 18 and my brooding rockstar boyfriend Kenny swore up and down he’d written me a song but then never played it for me.
Anyway, Len and I met under the ghost of a shady tree, and it was lovely to see him but strange, as he writes. It is odd to have a friend I see through the ether but am not used to looking at, and whose words I love to read but am not used to hearing. Thanks for a happy afternoon, dear, and the chance to see you peaceful and sweet yourself at last.
P.S. We are simmering beef rendang on the stove from a packet we brought back from Singapore.
After nine or ten years
everything changes.
I walk by where you used to live
and remember the storm,
and that haughty darkness of eyes and jaw
raised to heaven to meet it.
Then the rough roulette of destiny
flung us in opposite directions.
You were caught, or so I heard,
in a chariot of fire
to paradise.
Then nothing. Until
ten years later, a new exchange of greetings.
Strangers once, now strangers once again,
tongues speak, with care, across oceans.
And though I don’t yet know what remains to be said,
still I will stand by the sea, in old places,
and blow a blessing out into the breeze –
a blessing bearing your name:
may these next ten years continue to give you
their sweetness, and safety, and strength.
February 21st, 2006 at 8:37 pm
Area X?? I have taken that bus more than a few times and I know of no Area X. Sounds a bit like Area 51 though. Did you find anything exciting?
February 22nd, 2006 at 7:08 am
I’m sure it was temporary. It was so absurd that if it wasn’t temporary someone would have written an expose about it in the paper. I was really mad.
Sadly, there was nothing at Area X, not even an alien bus.
February 22nd, 2006 at 9:03 am
Wow. I think Len hit the nail on the head… although our time span is not as drastic. T’sup Spokane? HOLLA!
February 22nd, 2006 at 9:50 am
Beef rendang yay! Publication double yay! Seriously, though, it was good to see you, after all this time. You seem pretty peaceful yourself. :)
February 22nd, 2006 at 5:59 pm
Yay you! I made the changes you asked for. ;-)
Koobz, have you seen yourself on my Flickr site yet? Go look!