And here's a picture that Ryan will appreciate, much more than I do. We've left Estes Park, the elk, and altitude sickness behind us and have settled down to do the real work of this trip, the reason we came, corporate meetings. I wish I appreciated cities more. This is Denver, from my window on the 16th floor of the Adam's Mark hotel. Some crazy guy is swimmnig in the pool below, although there is snow on the ground. Gene has run off in his shiny black shoes to do the meeting thing. I'm trying to get in the frame of mind to write. I know I should go out for the naked exploration thing, but so far I've had breakfast in the room, all brought from home: my own homemade granola, some instant oatmeal, a banana, a cup of tea. The maid is not sure what to do with me. She is from Somalia. She is wearing a hajib. I'd like to sit and talk to her for awhile, see things from her perspective, but she doesn't speak much English. I'm trying to explain that I just want the bathroom straightened, some fresh coffee packets. I don't need fresh towels, I don't need the vacuuming. She can see I've made the bed and I haven't touched those nice robes hanging in the closet, or drank the $4.00 bottle of water. I finished Walking to Martha's Vineyard last night. I didn't enjoy it as much as Ill Lit, but found this poem very striking (as usual, the formatting refuses to cooperate and I apologize, because it is important, but for the moment this will have to do):
Epitaph
by Franz Wright
Now I'm not the brightest
knife in the drawer,
I know a couple of things
about this life: poverty
silence, impermanence
discpline and mystery
The world is not illusory, we are
From crimson thread to toe tag
If you are not seriously disturbed
there is something wrong with you, I'm sorry
And I know who I am.
I'll be a voice
coming from nowhere,
inside--
be glad for me.
7 comments:
For some naked exploration you should join the guy in the pool.
I'm so jelous of your vacation. Sitting in a nice Adam's Mark hotel, drinking coffee, and writing sounds so nice. I'd be using those nice robes--and bubble bath, too!
Yeah, that's the problem. There's no accounting for taste. I'd much rather be out there with the elk. And I'm not writing, just working and blogging. This is definitely not my writing place. I'll try again tomorrow.
And yes, I'm spoiled and ungrateful. That goes without saying.
Maybe you should see if they have a Ballet company in Denver..and I bet they have a nice art museum or somthing...maybe even a poetry eading.
Oh, yes, they have some truly wonderful things, museums and whatnot. But I've been working. I only took the days off work that we were in Estes Park.
I did, however, wander down to a wonderful bookstore today called Tattered Covers. I found a copy of Denver Quarterly there, with poems by David and John Gallaher. Very nice. You can borrow it when I'm done.
And, as an added benefit, the editor of Slow Trains is out of Denver and they sent me a galley copy of Train Language today. It will be out in the next couple of days!
So the strong, prevailing winds seem to be coming from Denver this week.
How are the panyhose going?
Very cool! I can't wait for Slow Train.
The pantywhose busted up today...got my dollar's worth out of them.
If you have to wear them, spend some bucks and get those super silky kind. As I remember, they're almost fun.
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