BipolarLawyerCook

I should be rest­ing, I know, now while they don’t know what’s mak­ing me woozy and weak
but I need to do some­thing when I’m not used to lying here idle,
and I’ve got friends com­ing soon.  I’m look­ing for­ward to see­ing them, ever so much.
Cleaning’s not an urge I get often, so when the urge comes, I’ll […]

Read Full Post »

Last week, I was email­ing with a friend– she was hav­ing a hard time, and I sent her this poem.  I was minded of it again this morn­ing, on my drive back from the Trader Joe’s, as I was pick­ing up a house­warm­ing gift for our hosts for a week­end away.
Mary Oliver’s “Mind­ful”, from Why I […]

Read Full Post »

Mr. Frost relates that “Some­thing there is that doesn’t love a wall” and the con­trary opin­ion, “Good fences make good neigh­bors,” in his poem Mend­ing Wall– it seems to be frost heaves and win­ter and grav­ity, the upheavals of win­ter, weather and cows.  He talks not of insid­i­ous creep­ers like ivy or bit­ter­sweet vine that […]

Read Full Post »

Some­times it’s just a lit­tle extra time on the meter,
that first bulb of spring show­ing yel­low or pink,
that one per­son who says, “that’s a lovely neck­lace on you.”
It makes a dif­fer­ence, that moment,
between tears and laugh­ter,
giv­ing up and car­ry­ing on.
Karma, grace, bless­ing,
call it
what­ever you like.
I know some­times I’ll for­get,
and flow­ers don’t bloom on demand,
but I can try keep […]

Read Full Post »

You ask why this love for the petty things,
part nat­ural, part affec­ta­tion–
and my answer’s sub­jec­tive, of course.
That morn­ing flower, the fly on my wine­glass–
the mouse turds on my kitchen counter are
proof my kitchen is worth tra­verse by small and large life alike.
I don’t know any­thing about Philip Larkin
or why he’s your death’s head–
I’m just start­ing to […]

Read Full Post »

Des­per­ate for Par
It’s a note my coworker left me on top of one of the tills in the safe,
an echo of a phrase I used once in pass­ing.
A joke.  Sort of.
We were so out of ones, fives and rolled coin
it was giggle-inducing.
Hol­i­days work­ing in retail make you punchy like that.
It’s meta, that com­ment.
She’s home­sick for the South, […]

Read Full Post »

It’s funny– pecu­liar and hah-hah, too, I sup­pose–
how a fla­vor– a food– a con­cept I loathe,
pep­per­mint,
can be cured by another.
Taffy.

Read Full Post »

Early on Sun­day at the laun­dry
and Sec­re­tary Clin­ton just unloaded an oh-no-she-did-not diss on Pres­i­dent Karzai.
Not that he didn’t deserve it, of course.
The cen­trifuge on the (coin-op, of course) washer in our base­ment gave out—
I warned the land­lord that the tub seemed to be leak­ing,
lovely peo­ple, but still, cheap bas­tards.
(Here I am, thirty-five, still rent­ing.
I […]

Read Full Post »

Large denom­i­na­tions are change­able,
but when you’re out of pen­nies and ones, you’re in real trou­ble.
It’s an exis­ten­tial life les­son, sure,
we’re all alone in the end,
but mostly, just make sure you have enough pen­nies and ones.
The ladies with Prada purses and Louis Vuit­ton wal­lets
don’t always expect you to make an excep­tion for their returns.
The men in sweatshirts, […]

Read Full Post »

I drink the cof­fee the husband’s made for me
at the same time I’m dry­ing my hair and scan­ning the Times for the head­lines.
Eight a.m. is too early to work,
at least that’s what I think.
Get­ting going takes every­thing in me some morn­ings.
The cof­fee, though– it does make a dif­fer­ence.
(He’s the hus­band because he is sin­gu­lar.)
The drive […]

Read Full Post »