[lit-ideas] Re: Monday's Sunday Poem
- From: david ritchie <ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Mon, 24 Oct 2005 16:13:47 -0700
Thanks for the kudos, Mike, and back at you.
It arrived when I was asking--as most people on the list have done
long before now--why I keep writing these Sunday poems, particularly
when life's small turmoils bubble? The chances of turning out a good
poem in a week are not high. After all these weeks there's nothing
left to prove in terms of meeting a deadline. And yet each week, I
feel this need to work at the words as I used to work at painting.
Emily found me typing on Saturday and said, simply, "You're
obsessed." Would that obsession and effort were Protestant
indicators, signs that Providence thinks verse is a good idea.
What turmoils? Paltry ones, the same as several months ago. The
white SAAB's repair bill threatens to be so big that it could be
terminal. So once again I went out and looked at what cars are on
the market and how much they cost. Once again, I'm not impressed. I
thought maybe Laura would want us to line up for a Prius, but she is
in favor of keeping the dear old beast (hereafter, D.O.B.) After my
trip to lots of lots, I think I am too, but I was tempted to add
another car to the fleet, a benchwarming car, as it were, to give us
depth. I'd be happier if I knew that when one of our cars is out of
action for a while--and with one in the body shop because a friend's
son drove into it, one at 130,000 miles, and one at 160,000 miles
this is clearly a possibility--we had the additional bench vehicle.
Also, of course, there is the matter of Julia reaching driving age in
December.
Could you clear the extra fuel consumption with the White House, and
my conscience, do you suppose?
I thought I found this one for sale:
http://www.saabstory.com/inventory.asp
but apparently the mirage effect is spreading. Last week it was an
imaginary Alfa, now here's an imaginary SAAB. According to the sales
guy at Garry Small, they sold this car on Saturday and just haven't
got around to updating their website. I'll give it several days
before I consider reporting them to the Attorney General.
The woman selling the Alfa Romeo called me an hour ago to ask whether
I wanted to buy her car. "Ha!" was what I was tempted to respond,
"read my poem." Instead, I was polite.
While they fix the D.O.B., SAAB has lent us a Buick Le Sabre. I'm
not sure I'm allowed to drive within ten blocks of an art college in
a Buick Le Sabre.
"What is that?"
"It's my Buick the sword, so much better than an Oldsmobile Cutlass,
or the Cadillac Jolly Big Dirk."
Maybe I should line up for a Mongolian horse just like the one which,
my newspaper says, was given to Donald Rumsfeld, and which he chose
to leave in Mongolia, mouth unlooked at. Somewhere in Mongolia can
be found "Montana"--which is what he called it, for ease of local
pronunciation reasons no doubt-- roaming without charge. Maybe the
thing could be had for cheap?
If I were a Catholic, I could consult on this issue a bunch of new
saints. Do saints "do" cars, I wonder? Saint Felice da Nicosia, a
lay Capuchin, Saint Gaetano Cantanoso, Saint Alberto Hurtado
Cruchaga, Saint Josef Bilczewski or Saint Zygmunt Goradowski, great
names all. The paper says the last pope canonized 482 people and
beatified 1,338, more than all the previous popes over the past 500
years combined, so maybe there's no more patron sainting. Maybe all
those slots have been taken. If these new guys get to be patron
saint of something, I'm guessing they're down to Mongolian horses or
Buick Le Sabres.
Carry on.
David Ritchie
Portland, Oregon
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