The Namesake

If you’ve read any of my other pieces, you know how I feel about turning books into movies. With a few exceptions, it’s usually disaster, a crime against literature. The Namesake is one of those exceptions.

Screenwriter Sooni Taraporevala and director Mira Nair were ideal for this project because, as the finished product shows, they both share author Jhumpa Lahiri’s gift of subtlety and a less-is-more approach. In fact, I’ve never seen a movie in which one line, tenderly spoken, can express so much of a character’s inner life. That is also where gifted actors come in. Kal Penn, Tabu, Irfan Khan geniuses.

Take note everyone this is how you make a movie out of a book.

 

Can I get a price check?

 

Today it is cold enough to wear my new winter coat, a gray peacoat.

After a wamer-than-average winter, everyone is eager to change their closets to sweaters and corduroy. Proving it, most people on the 2 train are a little too bundled for the temperature in the low 40s this morning.

I snake my way through the crowd on the train and hang on to the overhead bar. I feel as Sex and the City-sophisticated as I’ll ever get I’m reading The Atlantic Monthly. My hair is cooperating since the lower humidity has cut me a break. Maybe I’ve even lost a few pounds. A seat opens up and I decline why sit when you’ve got the confidence only a new outfit can give you?

At the office a co-worker says, "I like your new coat."

"Thanks," I reply, a little confused. "How did you know it was new?"

"The price tag is still hanging from your armpit."

 

Flogged for blog

When Jennifer Abell, a member of the Charles County Board of Education in southern Maryland, started a blog with the goal of encouraging dialogue between the school board and the greater community, she didn't think it would be controversial.

In fact, she got the idea to start a blog after attending an educational session at a National School Boards Association meeting, thinking it would be a great way to answer questions from parents and share information that might otherwise be ignored. So, after school board elections, she posted the meeting minutes announcing the board's new chair and vice-chair. Yes, it's true Abell dared to make public information public. 

Apparently, fellow board members did not appreciate Abell publicizing meeting information through unofficial channels, even though that information was not confidential. Of course, posting such information is well within Abell's First Amendment rights, and she was actually providing minutes that, according to the county's local newspaper, usally takes up to a month to be published on the board's website. 

If state senators and even the Speaker of the House can have blogs without offending anyone (well, at least not offending anyone through the simple act of having a blog), why can't locally elected officials? What is it about school and small-town politics that makes people hypersensitive? Perhaps school boards want to present a united front in which all communication is agreed upon before being made public. But if a board member is using her blog primarily to field questions, post meeting minutes, and communicate information that has already been discussed and voted on, why is she viewed as going against the team? A quick scroll through Abell's posts reveals such controversial and opinionated headlines as "Teen Driving Bills Introduced" and "School System Publishes Its Annual Report." Someone shut this woman down!

Abell should be commended for her attempts to engage her community and get input on decisions from those affected by them the most students, parents, and teachers. And it should be noted that Abell offers a disclaimer on her blog that clearly states its purpose and author. Even her effort at being more transparent is transparent!

Welcome! A blog, run by Jennifer Abell, Member of the Charles County Board of Education, involving topics and issues on education and children. Comments are not official communications of the Charles County School Board but are a personal effort to be more transparent. Both complimentary comments and constructive criticism are not only appreciated but encouraged. Student participation is also encouraged and therefore the use of proper language and decorum is requested at all times.

 

All’s not fair in economic stimulus and class warfare

If there's a lesson from the recent debacle over an economic stimulus package, it's this: Republicans need to stop engaging in class warfare.

If there’s a lesson from the recent debacle over an economic stimulus package, it’s this: Republicans need to stop engaging in class warfare.

Class warfare, as the Republicans have pointed out time and time again, is when public policy is unduly influenced by the interests of one group at the expense of everyone else.

Unfortunately, the Republican leadership has been guilty of such hypocrisy in its negotiations over individual tax rebates in the economic stimulus package, which the Senate approved yesterday. First there was a talk of making any legislation contingent on extending President Bush’s tax cuts for the wealthy. Then the Republicans sought to kill proposals to extend government checks to the poor, while demanding tax rebates for wealthy Americans. Now they’ve just stamped out an effort by Senate Democrats to lengthen unemployment benefits.

So, how is this class warfare? An effective stimulus package, according to economists ranging from Ben Bernanke to Martin Feldstein to Lawrence Summers, should be timely, temporary, and targeted. Targeting the stimulus means putting money in the hands of poor and middle-income households. They’re more likely to use that money to buy things rather than saving it or using it to pay down debt. (See these articles by economists Paul Krugman and Mark Zandi for more on this point. For some contrarian views, see this summary of recent research on tax rebates though it’s axiomatic in social science that you shouldn’t put too much faith in surveys of what people say they will do in the future.)

The legislation that both houses of Congress approved will give some benefits to the poor a $300 tax rebate check to individuals with at least $3,000 in income but many will not receive the $600 maximum rebate for individuals or $1,200 maximum for couples, plus $300 per child, because they do not pay enough income tax. (This is also true for certain segments of the near poor, the group that Katherine Newman and I study in our book The Missing Class.) In passing their own version of the legislation yesterday, the Senate also extended tax rebates to Social Security retirees and veterans with disabilities, though as for the poor the benefit will be just $300.

Among the poorest Americans, those in the bottom income quintile, only 71 percent have savings or checking accounts. Among families one quintile above poor, 89 percent do. As for the rest of Americans, their rate is almost 100 percent.

In other words, poor people save less. Any money that finds its way to these households is more likely to go toward buying things that people need. And since consumption accounts for more than two-thirds of the nation’s economic activity, people and the more people, the better need to start buying things if the economy is going to pull out of its downward spiral.

Affluent families, on the other hand, tend to use a smaller portion of their incomes to make purchases at a certain point, there’s not much more to buy and so any windfall that comes their way ends up in a bank or stock portfolio. While good for their retirement prospects, this kind of asset-building won’t do as much to grow the economy as going out and buying food, clothing, electronics, and other goods that keep companies in the black and keep workers employed.

To be effective, economic stimulus also has to be timely. That means relief should begin today not four or more months down the road, which is when the proposed legislation’s rebate checks are expected to go out. Yet temporary extensions of food stamps and unemployment insurance could have taken effect almost immediately. It’s a matter of instituting simple rule changes for pre-existing benefits, as opposed to putting in motion a bureaucratic juggernaut of one-time tax rebates.

What’s more, increases to food stamps and unemployment insurance would have been, by definition, targeted at the poor and unemployed, who again are the most reliable spenders and thus the key to raising levels of consumption and growing the economy. In fact, this analysis by economist Mark Zandi finds that jobless benefits and food stamps are even more effective than tax breaks in growing the economy.

Instead of following this economic logic, the Republicans in Congress have engaged in class warfare. They rebuffed any action on food stamps and now they’ve blocked an extension of unemployment benefits. They’ve consistently tried to steer the legislation toward the interests of the wealthy. (Here I’m talking specifically about the debate over individual tax rebates; the Senate proposals also included a variety of tax breaks for the coal industry and other businesses, so they had their fill of pork cooked up on the other side of the aisle, too.)

Economic stimulus is not about tax cuts for all, and especially not the wealthy. It’s about promoting consumer spending, and it should be seen for what it is: an investment, much the same way as we invest in roads and schools. By investing in working families who will head out to supermarkets and department stores with their rebate money, we can boost economic activity and pull the markets out of their doldrums. But that kind of investment should be made according to economic science, not the special interests of politicians.

Never mind that these families pay their share of sales taxes and Social Security and Medicare taxes in fact, more than their share, considering that regressive sales taxes swallow a larger chunk of poor households’ incomes than they do for more affluent Americans, and Social Security taxes only apply to the first $100,000 of income. The stimulus money should go to these families who most need it and who are most likely to spend it.

Unfortunately, the Republicans held their ground in the class war. Poor and middle-class families will be shortchanged by the approved legislation, and the quickest-acting methods of stimulus food stamps and jobless benefits remain in legislative limbo. (Democrats say they’ll take up the cause later, but there’s no reason for Republicans to sign on now that they got their tax rebates.) So, while the economy continues to sour, struggling families will still be waiting by their mailboxes come summer for that all-too-light check in the mail.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Under the causeway

According to this article, the Julia Tuttle Causeway in Miami has become a modern-day land of exile.

According to this article, the Julia Tuttle Causeway in Miami has become a modern-day land of exile.

Sex offenders have nowhere to live anymore because of a law that forces them to live 2,500 feet from schools or playgrounds, so they head out to places like the Julia Tuttle Causeway. In fact, some probation officers have ordered their charges to relocate there, and several of the residents have the overpass listed on their driver’s licenses: "Under the Julia Tuttle Causeway." It would sound like an address from a Harry Potter novel, except the reality is that these men — 15 to 30 of them — live in tents amid garbage and human waste.

They are free to go wherever they want during the day, but they have a government-imposed curfew at the causeway encampment — 10 p.m. — and "officers check nearly every day to make sure they are home on time." The local government says it has asked the men to leave, but can’t force them out, so it’s set up rules — sort of like a 21st-century Australia, minus the hard labor and transoceanic voyage.

According to the article, the laws that forced these men under the bridge are currently in place in "more than two dozen states and many more towns and cities." As an expecting parent, I can understand why people are so frightened of sexual predators: It’s terrifying to think your kids may be at risk of being picked up by a stranger. But as an expert quoted in the article points out, "most children who are abused are abused by someone who is well known to them."

If these sex offenders are so dangerous, why aren’t they being kept in prison longer? If they are being released, then given that America is supposed to be about second chances (just ask David and Victoria Beckham), they deserve a chance to reform themselves. Keeping them utterly exiled from the rest of the population will likely make their antisocial behavior worse.

Another troubling aspect of these so-called "buffer" laws is the sex offenders subject to them include not just rapists and pedophiles but also "youngsters convicted of illegal but consensual relationships with minors" — in effect, much of the high school population in this country, should they be tried for statutory rape. Forget STDs — sex ed classes should now include the message, "Have sex and you’ll end up living under the Julia Tuttle Causeway."

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Peeves

I’ve been trying to keep my subway pet peeves out of this blog, well, because they are my peeves.

Idiosyncratic and unreasonable, it probably wouldn’t make much sense to you why I get so pissed off when I’m confronted by a person or persons doing something I consider irresistibly stupid or just plain rude. But I feel I must share a peeve with you now because if I stop just one person from doing it, I will have done my part to make the world a better place.

I’d like to label this peeve “no standing.” It happens when a seemingly bright, able-bodied personlet’s call him John for the purpose of this argumenttrucks down the stairs at lightning speed, nearly bowling me over in an incredible rush to get to the turnstile, wherein he comes to a screeching halt, holding up everyone behind him while he scrounges through his messenger bag to find his Metrocard. At this point I’ve almost run into John’s backside since he’s blocked entrance to the platform. He searches through this pocket, oblivious that he should kindly step aside while digging. He is the same person that will be walking along the platform, arrive at his preferred waiting spot and stop, dead on in the middle of the walkway, forcing people to squeeze by him to pass. John is also the same guy who decides that, upon entering the train first, he will stand by the train doors blocking everyone else from getting on or off. By now, you see my point. I bet John’s momma raised him better.

What is it about the Johns of the world that make them think they are the only ones on the planet? There does seem to be a conglomeration of these types in New York, a city with roughly eight million inhabitants, which makes it ironic that they live in NYC at all. I mean, if you don’t want to be courteous to your neighbors, Montana or Siberia might be a better place to call home.

My friend Helen says that this behavior can be summed up as a basic sociological assertion, the official name of which has escaped me. (Any sociologists out there?) The premise is that in hyper-populated urban areas people subconsciously need to set themselves apart from the masses, crying out, “I’m here. Notice me!” To do this, they act out in small ways: throw trash on the sidewalk, cut in line, let the door slam in your face. It’s an adult version of a child throwing a tantrum in McDonald’s. By no means is this limited to the human race. With all of the trees, grass, and curbs in the neighborhood, my dog often chooses to pee right in the middle of the sidewalk.

In writing this I realize that maybe you, too, share my peeve. If so, email me. Maybe we can start a support group.

 

Finding the passion

Yesterday as I turned in my library books, I asked the library tech whether or not she had voted in the Super Tuesday primaries. "Nah," she answered, "I never vote." Climbing onto my bandstand, I reminded her that every vote counts. "So, who did you vote for?" she replied. Caught off guard and momentarily silenced, another library tech joked, "Oh, Kathy, didn’t your mother tell you that there are three things that you don’t talk about: politics, religion, and money?" The three of us laughed and I quietly replied, "I voted for Barack Obama."

An ardent, early supporter of Dennis Kucinich, I had found myself in the last few weeks between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Looking over my New Jersey sample ballot with my teenager, he noticed that Dennis was still listed, "Hey Mom, you can still vote for Dennis if you want," he pointed out, triumphant that he had found a solution. "Yeah, I guess I could, Sam. Only Dennis has dropped out, so I would be wasting my vote." "Aw, go for Barack, Mom. He’s okay," Sam responds, shedding his support for Dennis like dead skin. I’m finding it a bit more difficult to switch my allegiance. I do all the "right" things, I review the contenders’ websites, continue to watch the debates, make comparisons, and yet, I just can’t find the passion.

As more and more celebrities, lawmakers, and just plain folks, join in song for one candidate or the other, I begin to wonder if something is wrong with me. After all I remember being fired up over Clinton (Bill, that is). I remember the overseas phone calls to my family pleading with them to at least listen to Bill. I remember watching the dates so that I could make sure that I received my absentee ballot, the peace of election night, feeling secure that a wise choice had been made. Through the years I always managed to feel passionate about a candidate that captured the primaries. Heck, I even convinced my mom, a staunch Republican, to drop Bush and join in the Kerry campaign. I do admit, however, that my passion for Kerry would be more accurately tallied as passion against Bush.

I study the websites again, jotting notes on who supports what and how that fits into my way of thinking. Time and time again, Obama narrowly beats out Clinton. I look at the videos from YouTube and hear voices in sync, shouting out the HOPE that Obama brings into their lives. I complain to my husband, "I just don’t get it. I like Obama, I believe in what he says, I believe that he is the better candidate. I trust him. His policies are ones that I support." So why do I feel like he is the man that everyone tells you is the one to marry, but you just can’t see it?

I stand in the voting booth, wavering over the two names. I press the space next to Obama’s name and continue to stand. There is no line behind me, so I feel no pressure to hit the "cast vote" button. I hear my husband joking with the voting official. After twenty years, he is the man I trust, the one person whose decisions I support, a man I believe in. The man I love. I don’t need passion to tell me which direction to choose. It is enough to simply believe.

 

DIY punditry

Watching the Super Tuesday results come in, I blog and tell you something mildly interesting. Yes, anyone with an armchair is now a member of the punditocracy.

1:38 a.m. Oh, but Romney is a Mormon, so no wine for him. Poor man has to suffer through Not-So-Super Wednesday without the solace of sauce. 

12:55 a.m. Okay, I’m off to bed. I leave you where we began: utterly clueless. Clinton is the frontrunner? Obama ties in delegates? Huckabee is king of the South? McCain is a happy warrior? The only thing I know is that Romney is whining into a wine glass right now. To be continued.

12:54 a.m. Howard Fineman reminds us that Huckabee flies coach. 

12:48 a.m. They ran out of ballots in New Mexico. No idea when they’ll count that. Maybe the Supreme Court should weigh in.

Chuck Todd is doing some funny math on the screen again. He estimates 837 delegates to Clinton vs. 841 to Obama. Pretty amazing if it turns out to be true. Every delegate counts — apparently Clinton’s campaign was doing phonebanking in American Samoa to get more delegates there.

12:43 a.m. Obama wins Alaska!

12:41 a.m. Obama wins in Missouri by a nose.

12:37 a.m. The pundits on MSNBC are saying it’s a "tie" on the Democratic side. Now the minions of each candidate are saying how that "tie" is in their favor. I know they really believe in their cause, which is comforting, but it’s just hard to listen to the underlings root for their candidates, because the b.s. meter keeps going off. If they say "ready on day one" one more time I’ll throw my wine glass at the TV.

12:35 a.m. Back on the armchair. Is this over yet? Norah O’Donnell: "How many conservatives are going to bed popping Ambien" because of McCain’s victories tonight?

12:29 a.m. Sorry, have to take a break to clip my pregnant wife’s toenails. 

12:28 a.m. Off to ABC News. There’s a quote from a woman on Facebook who’s saying that she’s more excited about Super Tuesday than American Idol. Ah, the humanity!

12:21 a.m. Brokaw quoting McCain: "I’m a happy warrior." Sorry, the context escapes me, but it sounds nice, doesn’t it? He’s waging war, but he can be happy about that.

12:15 a.m. McCain wins California. Roundhouse kick to the face of Chuck Norris. But Romney is dead in the water, the pundits say. Have his supporters come out for him tonight? "They haven’t!"

12:12 a.m. Clinton wins California. Again, no one listens to Hollywood. Either that, or Jack Nicholson trumps Robert De Niro. 

12:11 a.m. Brokaw: "What we have in the Republican Party is the Humpty-Dumpty factor." Ah, where is Dan Rather when you need him? He’d be pulling these one-liners out three every six seconds. Remember that one about frogs having pockets and carrying firearms? Or something like that.

12:06 a.m. I was watching PBS but have switched back to MSNBC. Instantaneous election analysis is by its very nature fairly useless commentary, sort of like the news equivalent of Chinese food —  you watch six hours of it, and then the next day you’re still hungry for real information. So if I’m getting useless information, I guess should be watching Chris Matthews and waiting for another of his poetically random observations. ("No whine before its time!")

12:03 a.m. Ron Paul got a quarter of the vote in Montana. Not surprising, perhaps, in a state without a speed limit. Take that, big government!

12:01 a.m. Mark Shields of PBS’ Newshour points out that Clinton is the candidate of people collecting Social Security checks.

11:59 p.m. Okay, it’s not the networks, just PBS and some cable outlets. 

11:56 p.m. I have to say it’s nice that each of the candidates is actually getting some air time on the networks. When do you ever see candidates get to give stump speeches except when the election is over?

11:50 p.m. "Yes, we can!" "U-S-A!" "They haven’t!" (No, I haven’t even had any wine.)

11:48 p.m. Obama is speaking. I think both McCain and Clinton make a lot of sense in their speeches, but there’s something forced in their oratory. Obama is the best speechmaker, Huckabee is the quintessential guy who claps your back and tells a corny joke, which makes you laugh in spite of your better judgment.  

Obama is the inspirational speaker, but I have to say I’m getting a bit tired of this tired poetic imagery of Iowa cornfields and New Hampshire hills and Nevada deserts. What’s next, California strip malls?

11:40 p.m. I actually like the fact that Huckabee can fly coach. (I don’t know if he does: This is the kind of question you need a pundit to answer.) I also like that his wife (I assume it’s his wife, standing next to him when he speaks) is normal-looking. She looks like someone’s nice aunt. McCain and Romney are surely lucky men, but it is just me or do their wives look exactly alike? Blonde and smiling. Nice teeth. Okay, it’s just me.

Wow, McCain just said he’s the frontrunner. Is that the kiss of death? Keep your expectations in check, Mac.

11:32 p.m. Is it me, or is this whole pundit thing about regurgitating each candidate’s carefully calibrated expectations  and then saying he lost because he performed worse than expectations and she won because she performed better? The higher level of punditry then involves scoffing at the expectation management of the candidates and their spinning of who won and lost.

Tim Russert is saying that Huckabee is the kind of candidate who can fly coach.

11:21 p.m. MSNBC’s Chuck Todd is scrawling random figures on the Super Tuesday map in red (virtual) marker. The horserace has now turned into a football game. I’m waiting for someone to make a gratuitous Superbowl reference, invoking Eli Manning and fourth quarter comebacks. Wait, that was Tom Brokaw three hours ago. 

11:19 p.m. Romney spoke to his supporters. He says a line about how Washington won’t provide health care, how Washington won’t keep America safe, etc. etc., and then the audience yells, "They haven’t." I’m told that he’s done this more than once. It feels like a high school pep rally. I expect a guy in a cougar suit to start jumping around, maybe a few cheerleaders.

It hasn’t been a great night so far for the ex-governor. Everyone is piling on Mitt. The chickens came home to roost down South — first McCain and Paul supporters went for Huckabee to spite Romney in West Virginia, and now Huckabee is slaughtering him throughout the rest of the South. His rivals on the campaign trail seem to take special glee in bringing down Romney, even more so than McCain, probably because of Romney’s relentless negativity from early on in the race.

Huckabee says Romney is "whining" about his loss in West Virginia by alleging a deal between the other candidates to get him. "No whine before its time!" MSNBC’s Chris Matthews chimes in. Someone has had too much wine, methinks.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Lions and lambs

Nicholas Kristof writes that liberals don't give conservative evangelicals enough credit.

Nicholas Kristof writes that liberals don’t give conservative evangelicals enough credit for their efforts to end poverty, stop genocide, fight HIV/AIDS, and further a host of other causes conventionally seen as progressive. It’s a valid point: There’s plenty of disdain for Christian evangelicals in some urban Democratic bastions, not to mention in large swaths of academia and media, and yet even in big cities like New York the numbers of evangelicals are strong and growing, especially among immigrant communities.

In the nation as a whole about one in three Americans, or 100 million, can be described as evangelical, though that number is debated and includes substantial numbers of African Americans, who tend to be more liberal, as well as numerous other moderate and progressive evangelicals who don’t fit into the Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson mold.

In any case, Kristof notes that a recent CBS poll shows that the top issue that white evangelicals believe they should be involved in is fighting poverty. Restricting abortion was a distant second. Without question, evangelicals have been on the forefront of this crucial issue of poverty, both here and abroad, and more recently a number of courageous pastors have also been challenging the Republican Party’s orthodoxy denying climate change.

It seems that secular liberals could find common cause and also inspiration from these evangelical activists, if they’re willing to overcome their own prejudices. (Incidentally, I’m saying this as someone who isn’t religious.) When the lions lie down the lambs, we might see something done about the billion people who live on less than $1 a day, or the 37 million Americans who live under the poverty line.

On a somewhat related note, it’s interesting that all of the five remaining major candidates, Democratic and Republican, seem to be bring something new to the table, diversity-wise. Obviously, Clinton and Obama would be breaking down gender and racial barriers, but Romney would be the first Mormon president. McCain would be the first president entering the office at the age of 72 — breaking down a glass ceiling for the growing ranks of seniors in this country.

And Huckabee, the Southern Baptist minister, would be representing a kind of evangelicism that has been given short shrift during the Bush years, in spite of the younger Bush’s God talk: born-again Christians who care about social issues but also worry about growing economic inequality and factories and jobs moving overseas. We haven’t seen that kind of evangelical president since — dare I say it — Jimmy Carter.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Got heart?

More than any other month, February revolves around the human heart: The Super Bowl gets our adreneline flowing and inspires many to cheer with their hearts on their sleeves, while Super Tuesday demands that we examine our hearts at the ballot box. And Valentine’s Day invites us to partake in some romantic whimsy, while the public health community reminds us to take our hearts seriously during American Heart Month.

Fittingly, this month’s issue of InTheFray offers several takes on the heart’s emotional manifestations. We begin with a story that will make your mouth water. In “Cooking like an Egyptian,” Aisha Gawad discovers her Egyptian heritage in the kitchen. Meanwhile, our Books Editor Amy Brozio-Adams reviews Anya Ulinich’s Petropolis and discovers that émigrés — no matter how hard they try — can never quite satisfy the heart’s longing for home

Rounding out this month’s stories are three poems about love, passion, and devotion. Each line meticulously written, poet Heather Fowler muses about and the power that we have over our hearts — and the power they have over us. To get the full emotional effect, be sure to listen to the sound file accompanying Fowler’s prose poem “A long time coming: love’s promise poem.”

Thanks for reading. Have a great month!

Laura Nathan
Editor
Buffalo, New York

 

A long time coming: love’s promise poem

A wistful verse about love, passion, and devotion, accompanied by a sound file of the same name.

 

Listen: Were there ever any doubt as to the way I loved you, dear, please note —
today at your doorstep I dropped chrysanthemums and one piece of lost and stolen
time, seven daydreams fashioned by hope, soft paper vellum, a groaning week in May,
and only the best of chance.
 
Yesterday, I missed you so deeply, my chest ached for your subtle sound echoing
through thick cartilage to reach me amplified, misted, sweet, and bold — longed
for you as I long for the taste of your tongue on mine or the subtle heat of your clothed
shoulder near.
 
It is regular, lately, how much I dream I kiss you, touch you, taste you where our
hearts can top each other, where fragile skin glides and collides. So, honest, love,
were there ever any doubt as how I love you, listen. Look: Today a man too many
years your senior stood
 
in line before me; but when I cemented your brain and heart to his frame, immediately,
I loved him, gazed at him adoringly, with hunger, wanting at once the span of his
short build to hang on mine, the touch of his white hair to brush my chest, and the absent
smile hid behind a frown
 
to reappear. Oh, la — I nearly invited him to visit my bed, that erstwhile ghost of you,
clamored for his presence in those places I most seek you, in dreamy night or the taste
of your tears: Listen, distant one: were there ever any doubt as to how
I love you, don’t doubt now. 
 
Let me find you in my sheets and heart’s swelled music at long last, where I would
always, with best intentions, lend you this heart’s expansion should you want it,
let it recreate your pulse — for though this may mean I’d lose it for a while,
watching lingeringly from remote
 
as it traveled past foreign shores and climes, I’d tell it never cease its love
for you, then kiss it goodbye, offering just one ready piece of advice on
love and loving: To be true to me, completely, it must
deny you nothing.

 

Independence

Within the freshness of new walls, your old self can be found again.

The floors creak a little.
On the walls I notice
nail holes and tiny fissures
from things just taken down.
 
Here, the door doesn’t
quite shut without slamming,
the bathroom has no
you, no table to hold
 
a piece of you in frames, just the hamper
and I, in a mirror hung too high
to see where your lies would
(often) hit below my belt.
 
Tonight, I have bought myself back
this way, with these new sights
of old rooms, old places but new keys
on my mantle. Mine. As if they
 
were new hands
on my face, on my waist,
new come-hither touches
waiting on air for me
 
in this quiet reverie
where I feel your absence
only barely and bleach all surfaces
knowing the true value of bleach,
 
is to evacuate germs, infections,
to rid the mind of old thoughts,
old places, old scents, old colors
ridden from my clothes like pictures
 
ridden from boxes. No, nothing
you own is here now. No messages. No
lost albums. No broken truths. Perhaps
it is strange to find solace
 
in these bare walls, to seek a clean
place without memories
in which to sterilize
my heart or my teeth;

perhaps some can let sit
other people’s tarnished things, wonder
if they’ll ever pick them up and wait
until the knowing of who
 
owned what would fade.
But I say, the color of
independence
is riddance, always white, white
 
white, white, white — like what,
in the bleach, your photo becomes
when the face dissolves away,
how the paper looks, peeling wet
 
then drifting
into grey skies, sheet-like and airy,
falling from the second floor window
where it is a marvel I even bother to
 
watch myself let it, or any
part of you, go.
Shame on me, I think,
that I should try so hard to see
 
an already fallen thing, fall.

personal stories. global issues.