Wednesday, December 8, 2010

at the library, quietly clearing my throat

Maybe eventually I'll get good at this. The scheduled-ness of this writing. This out-of-the-house-ness of this writing. Maybe eventually I'll see past the mountainous-ness of this writing and start pinning down little pieces, bit by bit. Then I'll be really writing.

And I'll remember what to bring. Last time I forgot earphones, water. Today I forget iPod, Kleenex. I detour to the store on my way here. Waste of time. Check out a few books before sitting down. Wasting time. Someone in this study area smells like smoke. But it's quiet. And I'm here.

The moon that ushered me in was the clipped toenail kind -- a thick sliver. But you could see the outline of the entire circle in shadow -- the promise of entirety. Fullness. That's me tonight. Maybe my eyes are half mast. Maybe my fuse is half cut. But my face is still lit up. Partial, yes. But there is more. There will be more. Guaranteed.

There. I've cleared my throat. It's time to start. Goodnight.