12 March, 2009



I am not Dorothy Parker, at last I know.
16 days into Lent, 16 days without booze. One might think it was a snap to do, but I have come to admit I thought I had a friend in wine, and mourn the loss of companionship like a ghost.We sit on the porch and write love letters to each other. Me alone in Laurel, my wine on Interstate 25-70 heading south. Nothing much ever transpired between us, me and the bottle. There was no real conversation, just a quiet, imagined sideglance, I thought meant love.
I sit in Laurel thinking about Amy and Erich, and all the other people who gave something up for Lent. I wonder if they miss their fairweather companions. Maybe they are having real conversations with folks to their right & left. I would like to think they are playing ping pong or planting cabbage, and having a jolly old time while I pace Laurel seeking the voice who writes great short stories, gets a good night sleep, and loves without reserve.

I believe that when one gets rid of something in life it opens them up for something else. A yardsale of the soul of sorts. What sort of yardsale item are you?

11 comments:

Unknown said...

Oh, Life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And Love is a thing that can never go wrong:
And I am the Queen of Romania.
-Dorothy Parker
My favorite DP quote.

Anonymous said...

Bathing suits and bowling balls... Every thing's a dollar in this box...

Anonymous said...

my yardsale has broken chairs and art school paints

Anonymous said...

My land is bare of chattering folk;
the clouds are low along the ridges,
and sweet's the air with curly smoke
from all my burning bridges.

Dorothy Parker

Jon Curtis said...

Mall mauling... and get it outta here

I'd like to invite you to my yard sale
Held in the courtyard...
at the mall.
I'll gladly pay you a shilling or two,
to remove goods: good, bad, plenty and few.
Sticky buns and clothes for stick figures,
caged critters and Nike sensations,
tacky, wacky, things teen and big-hair.
I hope to see you there...
at my yard sale

Anonymous said...

OLd burdens and Old loves will go in my yard sale box, unfortunately, I will have to pay you to take them, and as I have little funding, I guess I will keep them and look at them some more......When spring comes 'round and funding abounds, I shall relieve myself of them.

Anonymous said...

accordion- a nickel
horn- a dime
old skin shucked like shorn corn from
an old diamond back, still aging. For shelter or canvas..with those
art school supplies you could make somethin pretty, or cover yourself up if it's cold out.. Maybe aparachute come summertime. If there's an auction block or a bartering table I'll see whats out there, tit for tat on
heart and soul.. going once? going twice? Sold!To the lady with the lucky rabbits foot,crown, and bowling ball

Tarhoof said...

ones rash is anothers....

Anonymous said...

Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.
Four be the things I'd been better without:
Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.
Three be the things I shall never attain:
Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.
Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye.

-Dorothy Parker

ellen jo said...

I cannot bear to part with any of it.

Anonymous said...

not even a bobble head?