WHAT SHALL WE DO TODAY?

I’ve got it. We’ll go
to the top of the tower
and then we’ll jump off.

Dyslexic kid’s mom
with tears in her eyes,
“My. Son. Bought. Your. Book.”

Just happened. Now I’m crying, too.

Day 4 kicked my butt. I’m still rising at 5 in the morning (except for this morning, technically Day 5, when I arose at 4:45). I’m teaching only four poetry workshops a day, but they’re only 45 minutes each and the biggest ones have 80 kids in them! So I am beginning to lose my voice. Then last night I had to give a performance for the parents association, which was great, but I crawled into bed at 9:30. So here’s a haiku for Day 4.

I am so tired.KL totally kicks ass!
Except it is mine.

This is technically cheating, since it’s actually already Day 4 for me, but yesterday, which was my first day teaching, was so exhausting that I couldn’t write even a haiku. Again, this morning I am up at 5 to write and work for two hours before the teaching day begins. Today’s haiku is based on something a young Pakistani girl named Amal said to me; Amal asked why it was that whenever she tried to write about something beautiful, it seemed as if the process of writing about it made it no longer beautiful. I asked her what kinds of things she was talking about and she said, “Oh, you know, like an abandoned tire or a stack of newspapers.” How wonderful is that?!

WHY SHE CANNOT WRITE ABOUT PRETTY THINGS

Writing about them
made them somehow no longer
pretty anymore.

Enjoy the night while I enjoy the day.

Metaphorically yours,

Taylor

Finally arrived in my hotel after 26 hours of travel, mostly easy. Now I must sleep (if I can!) because I teach tomorrow! Haiku #2 before bed.

KUALA LUMPUR (PETRONAS TOWERS)
Oh! This is THAT place!
Never been here before, but
I know this skyline!

This tour is not as long as last year’s Bang-Bang Tour, but still, leaving the country to fly to the other side of the world—particularly to two countries you’ve never been to, Malaysia and Singapore—is always daunting. One haiku every day tracking my progress starts today.

Metaphorically yours,

Taylor

P.S. Sent from the road so forgive odd spellings & apparent curtness.

I love me some Zora Neal Thurston! Author of “Their Eyes Were Watching TV”?

This is outside Hudson Booksellers at JFK! sheesh.

Seventh Anniversary

for Rebecca Tauber Mali

You might be interested to know—especially today—

that I mentioned you in conversation with a woman at a party

named Cynthia, some kind of counselor, who never went by Cindi.

All I said was that my first wife—I called you my first wife—

once bought a sports car so flashy and improbably red

you were aghast to call it yours. I told her how you said,

“I am not the type of woman who would drive such a car!

This car should be driven by someone peppy named Cindi

who dots her eyes with flowers, hearts, or stars.”

I told this woman how you then decided that Cindi was her name,

the car’s, how it seemed—somehow, through the mystery of laughter—

to make her easier to own, flowers, hearts, stars and all.

What I wanted to tell you, what I thought you would find fascinating—

today of all days—was that this woman, this Cynthia not named

after your car, somehow knew that you had died. And what is more,

that while you were alive I loved you very much.

                                                            —September 13, 2011

At a friend’s wedding last weekend, one of the guests brought a unicycle, which I have always wanted to try. Perhaps because I have been thinking about riding one for so long, I took to it rather quickly. I’m not saying I went far or could stay up for very long, just that the guy, a professional birthday clown, said he’d never seen someone take to it quite so easily (which made me feel really good even though it may have been the wine!). Basically, in order to go anywhere, you have to let yourself start to fall and then start peddling to catch up! I know there’s a metaphor here.