2011/12/21

You Must Come to Them Sideways in Rooms Webbed in Shadow

I confess I like twitter. The spontaneity, here, before I forget, have. I can see why a Saudi prince invests $300M: why not make money off the dopes while they self-spy for you? I just thought about tweeting those three sentences, maybe my wit will drive up my followers count. Tell me, these women with pornstar names and California zen taglines who've never tweeted but have thousands of followers, why are they following me? I shouldn't bolster my esteem by their devotion, yes?

Planet needed a new phone so we went to the Corporate Store. She got a iPhone 4s, which means she can ask her phone what color is a carrot and get immediate and accurate response. I thought about getting myself (I'm due an upgrade) an antique iPhone 4 (that doesn't know a carrot's color) for half the price of the soon to be obsolete iPhone 4s but decided no, then thought, I wish I'd brought my new Kindle Fire so I could check my email.










MIRRORS AT 4 a.m.

Charles Simic

You must come to them sideways
In rooms webbed in shadow,
Sneak a view of their emptiness
Without them catching
A glimpse of you in return.
The secret is,
Even the empty bed is a burden to them,
A pretense.
They are more themselves keeping
The company of a blank wall,
The company of time and eternity
Which, begging your pardon,
Cast no image
As they admire themselves in the mirror,
While you stand to the side
Pulling a hanky out
To wipe your brow surreptitiously.