Tuesday, February 08, 2005

The Shining Throne Sutra

I am playing games with the humidity; guessing the right size of the kitchen cabinets; drowsing by a torn kite on the football field; pasting diet schedules on my backyard fence.

I am shining thrones for the mystery play; working off a hangover by classifying socks, disorienting bats by clapping my hands, increasing my output for diminishing returns.

I am flouting the rules for long-period events; feeling nauseous on a beach in Cancùn; lambasting clowns at my niece's day-care; earthing the static in your new corduroys.

I am celebrating crosshairs over laser-lock sights; making a dog's breakfast of my first drama class; writing 'buff' when I mean 'suspension'; responding to condolences with your marriage stationery.

I am eating dates and regretting the cheese; crying at jazz tunes in peak hour traffic; re-evaluating the effects of my long awaited birth; tying up prospects with my probing sales questions.

I like this one. I've done a bit of sock-sorting myself from time to time.
Gracias, Bernardito. How are things on the family front?
It's the waiting game, compadre. We're at 35 weeks. How goes la vie amsterdamish?
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