Fish - By Dhornsby As I shelved Hemmingways, Cranes, and Tolstoys, I learned more about war from a man in a grimy shirt than I could ever read in a book.
I asked about fish that never existed.
The war messed him up, she says.
They don’t let him in (she didn’t say why).
Every Friday, he stands by the window with his plastic bags and stares.
The cat vomits near the mystery section and neither one of us wants to clean it up.
One day, after he had left, my manager told me that her friend, a waiter at the restaurant, said the man was banned there two years ago.
Then he tells me again to read The Sun Also Rises- the best book he’s ever read.
"Delicious," he invariably responds.
"How was the fish?" I always ask.
He breathes on her, telling me that she likes the smell of the swordfish or lobster he just ate.
He returns an hour later, without fail, to see the cat again.
I clean paperbacks and listen to a man who looks sixty and acts sixteen
talk about tilapia and television in the same old grimy shirt.
He always tells me that he is on his way to a restaurant to eat some fish.
Every Friday a man walks in to talk to the cat.
He talks to me too.
I work at a bookstore with a cat.
at the end of the day - By notebook girl 12/1/08
COLD. Finished the movie I hope. Why am I still awake?! Agh!! I really hope I don't need that poem for tomorrow...
11/30/08
Well. I'm here. ...I think I must be afraid of everything.
incendios controlados - By piro Amante del buen comer y de la buena vida. Vende ilusiones para tenerla. Con una hábil oratoria, pero demasiado bueno para ser político.
Sábado casero con dos espaldas enganchadas, una conversación interesante y sobretodo sin malos rollos. Perfecto.
Y finalmente bajó del pedestal y se mezcló con el resto de los mortales. La clave estuvo siempre dentro de mí, pero no sabía como usarla.
09.29.2008 -