I Rescued John Adams!

Refering to the poem I wrote earlier.
_________

The morning before our family reunion at Steph's house I went for a walk near my old elementary school that they are tearing down. I was SO relieved that my eye sight was perfect and made the morning that much more crisp. I heard construction noise- on a Saturday? Whatever. I walked slowly watching three destroyers with their yellow machine arms pounding concrete, lifting steel rods, muffling in the dust. I saw the flimsy gate was open and that book I wrote about in my poem was there. I stood very still near the gate, watched, and drank my coffee. I was getting up the nerve to run in there and steal this rain and dirt soaked book. I was nervous they woul yell at me to get out of there. I was also nervous one of them would stop what he was doing, get out of his toy, and start running after me. I was reassured knowing I could out run him and his little friends. I finished my coffee and I was very warm with the sun at my back. A car drove past me and I booked it into the area. I ran about 10 feet toward the gate chanting, "They don't care about me, they don't care about me, if they even see me, they don't care..."
I hair pinned turned into the area and ran another 20 feet. I was safe for a moment behind the large tin garbage (aka school parts) holders. The grass was swollen with wet lumps and I rescued the book. I ran back out, "They don't care, they don't see me..." And kept walking fast. My original plan was to run the heck out of hell. But I KNEW they didn't care. I didnt look back, well, I peered over my shoulder every once in a while for a yellow arm to pick at my shoulder. I was so relieved to rescue this "John Adams" book. I zig zagged down the streets toward my house. I glanced at the book a few times. It was actually a book with a horse on the cover and with short stories to help third graders read.

I can see!

My eyes were blasted and I can see for miles and miles and miles!

Happy Birthday Lisa!

I would have put this on the family blog, but I locked myself out (and noone has invited me back in, sniffle). See you on Saturday!

Oh, my Hayes (Round Two)

I walked by a second time.
They are tearing down my elementary school.
I don't know where the first poem is at the moment.
________

The destruction of the school I understand-
but the death of a book?
It was turned away from me
tilted off of a large piece of stone
or maybe a piece of the school.
But it looked like John Adams on the cover,
his pages waiting to be turned
not from sticky storms
or raw winds
but by gentle hands
eager for its words.
The ISBN scraped and torn,
the year unknown.
I wanted to crawl under
the wimpy temporary fence
and fetch it for keepsake.
Instead I kept walking
away, toward the future-
another page turned.

I stopped again
in front of the back doors
and remembered the years
in the smelly old gym
voting, the old people,
the crowds, the baked cupcakes,
at 7:30 in the mornings.
No where to park. And the children
ducking under us
to get in their school to learn.
Also there, the Scholastic book sales.

It was okay to see the porta's and a
sturdy bench for the destroyers.
It's their job.
They need a break, too.

But I walked passed an empty
soda can, a Pepsi
laying passionately thrown.

I heard ticking knocks
in the trees, still tall,
those mysterious bugs
having a party.

The lone window with a blind
and a perfect circle loop pull-down handle,
still there.

The front door
devastated by bricks
depressed and destroyed.
Holding not the prestige
it owned from its birth.

Then I saw them.
The tiny chairs with
their legs straight up,
bent at odd angles,
(if only I could've saved one)
like a dead four legged loved animal
demolished and put to death in a mass grave.
They were the first thing I thought about
before I went on this walk.

Hi Family

If anyone reads this, will someone invite me to be a contributor, I locked myself out, I guess.

Trying to Eat

Here's a gripe of any typical day at HBHam. LOVE not being there!!!
October 11, 2004

The Christmas bells chime on the door- been up for three years now. I am cattled into helping the next customer. I rise from my smoked turkey, green leaf lettuce, garden tomato and horseradish sauce sandwich, still chewing in my teeth, savoring as fast as I can to get in rhythm to say !Welcome! to this customer. I walk slow, rounding the corner from the phone room- we see you but you can’t see us. I lick my teeth and lips, loathing my lunch break broken and having to put on a mask with a wimpy rubber band holding my plastic smile. I walk, my eyelids lowered, my head raised high on my shoulders and my chest puffed. I lick the sauce from the side of my mouth, so good.

They all know when it’s my lunch hour. They all come when I say, “I think I’ll throw some lunch in the microwave.” Vroom one after another. “Can I have a ham classic no mustard with mayo, do you have any onions?” Is the meat fresh? No, we sell three day old meat and laugh every time you buy one.

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