Friday, February 29, 2008

friday confession: oops

I came back from walking the dog. There was a tissue on the table, perfectly new from the pack, so I used it to wipe my nose. I wadded it up in my coat pocket since I had to go back out and could re-use it. Later when I took it out to blow my nose I noticed there was some black pieces or something in it, so I unfolded it thinking I must have a coal-fired power plant booming in my nose. In fact the black was three scribbled lines of Italian, a poem that my husband, lacking paper, had apparently jotted down, turned over and left on the table.


Anonymous said...

Now, there, is a poem in the making.


Anonymous said...

and, he's salvaged it, right?! i mean, you've salvaged it, right? i mean, it's ravaged, right?
how i love your fri. confessions.
and your book tag-- lovely.

LKD said...

I misread "salvaged" as "savaged" in the comment above.

Savaged it with your snot!

You're a character in a Proulx story, I swear. A woman who keeps teeth in her change purse, and blows her nose into poems.


predictablepoet said...

aren't moments like those the things that entire days hinge upon?

a poem in your pocket...

Sharon Hurlbut said...

Whoops. Love the mixture of poetic and prosaic in this story.

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