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Subject: Marek / i am a grrl (prose poem)
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		i am a grrl (prose poem)
		------------------------------------------------------------

Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: Straw Poll
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		In article <01bd4614$a5eb6680$LocalHost@beanbag>,
		Ruswa <Al@althea.demon.co.uk.nospam> wrote:

	>ketzle@cyberspace.com wrote :
 
	>> while trying to instill
	>> some order on my unruly cd collection, 

>During a discussion among friends regarding our own habits and those of
>wives and girlfriends, it turned out that in our sample of 5 participants
>and 4 partners, the men religiously keep CDs & records in alphabetical
>order, where as the filing system for the women tends to be, shall we say -
>haphazard.
> 
>Has anyone else come across this phenomenon? 

Clearly I am a grrl.  At the present time, less so a grrl than the one
who so vivaciously performed a combined Cherokee/Amish/Mormon
religious/ceremonial/astronomical/civic rite in her living room (that's
where CDs are being kept disorganized in her house, within an imaginary
box within the larger cube that is the living room).

This rite was presaged with the long-brewing need for vacuuming, acted
upon with the purchase of a microfiltering Hoover (made in Canton, Ohio),
and a thorough and enjoyable vacuuming.  It was then calculated though
the calculations are at this point unclear as to purpose with Tycho Brahe
precision using the position of the Sun, the ray it cast through the
break in the miniblinds, the calendar time as kept by a very precise
Mondaine Swiss Timing watch and the known facts about the local
(Chicago) architecture and street layout.  Even the magneticc field
diversion from true north was noted and recorded.  It's different now, btw.

Then, ith manic intuition and finesse of recall thrown in for good
measure, fortified with reading up on the Pima Indians in the Southwest
Vlume 10 encyclopedia of the American Indian, published by Smithsonian in
large format in cloth and obtained at the Chaco Canyon gift shop 
together with Volume 11 (the others were not of interest then; *regret*)

the rite commenced and proceeded to be titrated through the cold
abandon of completely impervious to damage self-esteem and gripped in
the precise euphoria of freely casting about -- this way and that --
up and about (but not around the penny altar or the choctaw, or the
canyonlands postcard, or the dried roses, et cetera) only the best
naturally brewed soy souce, aged one year, president's choice, though
not my truly best stuff, still sealed in the fridge, from people's
republic of china, gotten near Wentworth in the Chicago Chinatown),
then pulling down all my bookshelves, all of them, yes, all 6 down.
down.  CD's down.  More soy sauce?  yes!

That's all there was to that.  The bookshelves needed replacement
anyway; the wall, patching and repainting.  And too much same for too
long, and too much paper.  So... besides, I forgot where I put certain
CDs and they needed reorganizing.  So I am wiping them off and thinking
of places where I can get replacements for broken plastic or do without
polyesterene altogether.

Tonight I will do more wiping.  Tomorrow is for laundry, just becaue one
may meet a nice grrl in the laundry room.  I have more clean laundry
my ancestors bestowed upon me when I was sick than bushel bucket capacity
to carry it when soiled.

On Friday they are bringing in the Baldwin Acrosonic upright, built in
Cincinnati in 1966, reconditioned here (good year, says the master
reconditioner), which I picked out and paid for and aranged to have
brought in on my way to work, the work I do not have to be at for two
weeks.  The piano has a dazzling sound.  I will play it.  I also demand
to have a piano any pianist will like.

Yes.  Clearly I am a grrl.  The fuck out of my face unless I ask for it.

				-- Marek
>
>-- 
>R.
>Your meditations are far wanderers,
>You must have them all home before dark;
>		from Tristram - E.A. Robinson
>