Sunday, August 13, 2006

My neighbors are on vacation in Maine for a month. They told my children they will wave to their grandfather when they cross his bridge. It is one of the few drawbridges left in the country—my father makes it go up and down.

It is raining. My neighbors want me to water their garden two hours a week even if it is raining b/c they have lost two trees in the front. It is the acid in the land not the water. I have told them this but you can only tell pp. so much and then they must plant their trees and watch them die and then plant them again. We are an animal which learns by doing not by hearing---not so different from the other animals I suppose.

I read in the Sunday paper this morning that non-fiction is the big literary seller in our decade which means the collection of short stories could do well. Maybe I could invent a new genre, not that I believe there any new genres, or art forms for that matter left to be invented but if I can’t write a damn fine book at least I could invent something essential like scotch tape or a doggie door.

3 comments:

Andrew said...

I live next door to Maine. We have wooden covered bridges up our way but I didn't know about the draw bridge. You learn something new every day.

To Love, Honor and Dismay

louise said...

I saw a drawbridge for the first time in my life last week in Gloucester, MA. It was a little surreal and I didn't know what it was at first...

early hours of sky said...

Funny enough every bridge poem I write gets published on the first try.

I really need a bridge book;)