I’ve been going through poems the past week.5 and have noticed that many of them are twofers i.e. what in my mind for so long was one poem, is in fact two. The ease of splitting them is actually really awesome because it means I’m in an accepting mode and am no longer mashing things together that are only faintly connected. Huh, have I been mashing, too, relationships that I wanted so desperately to coexist? Has it taken distance to realize that people too can be connected with threads and thin experiences?
Writing once again is the only thing that makes sense in the world because it helps me make sense.
In other news:
Last night we went to a bar/restaurant called Postino on Central. The original Postino is not where we were, but I thought it was interesting that they named for it’s location in an old post office. Postino Spanish for Post Office…got it.
We had amazing beer and $13 Bruschetta that came on a plank with 4 huge slices of bread cut up into smaller slices and one covered in Fig jam with apples and brie, another caprese style, another with prosciutto and dates, the last with pesto and salami. AND we got a “pub board” with chorizo, cheddar, giant Spanish corn nuts, locally made warm, dark pretzels with mustard and homemade pickles.
I wanted to stay out forever and eat forever and revel in the gorgeous atmosphere of this open air eatery. The misters were spritzing. The cacti were spiking. The sun was rusting. All was right in the world.
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