so before i leave for the city, i check my mail. have to go in for some more tests, apparently. what can i say, i'm well endowed in some sense. the lady at the women's health center said this happens with many baseline patients. it's a baseline, they want to make sure it's right. so i get to get felt up by radiology next. yay. tomorrow, let's get it over with, i say.
i got several phone calls, a couple texts, even a card from my thoughtful sister before my reading, and i was grateful for them all. when i had finally stopped wishing, hoping, and wanting what i wanted to happen would, i enjoyed the idea of going to the event alone so much more. i got ready, parked my car by my old digs because there was no where else (though it meant a couple blocks walk near midnight, the thought of that didn't intimidate me so much anymore. curious).
i wound my way through the streets to the train, bought my tickets after only minor issues which were easily resolved. (i have two technological left feet. it's only taken me a year to figure out how to turn the shuffle feature on, on my mp3 player. hello. i guess it never mattered until now. but i'm lovin' it with the recent demise of my favorite alternative station).
i boarded the train and everything looked new to me. i'd seen it all, i've ridden that train many times. granted, most with my girl. so when you have a child in tow it's an entirely different focus. this time, it was mine. the trees, the houses, the kids in the thicket with the white lab. all mine. i watched five egrets take flight as we rumbled through the wetlands, the basking turtle soaking up the last rays of the setting sun. it was divine. all of it. even the open trailers of the freight yard, held a peculiar interest. i devoured it all. and when i arrived at secaucus, i stood in the wind and breathed deep. the air was chilly, the place was crowded, but when else are you on your way to destiny. when ever are you standing perched to fly. and so i let the wind take me where it would, and we set off for penn station.
i just followed the crowds mostly, but when we got there, i went to the street and found macy's. thought i'd brave it and i was about two hours early for the event. i asked the doorman (thankfully) where i could find what i was looking for and he sent me to exactly the place i needed to be. fourth floor. comfortable shoes. what a labyrinth that place is. i had no idea. i guess if you warrant three starbucks, a mcdonalds, and ice cream shoppe, then you're a pretty damn big store.
on the street i passed several starbuxes but didn't stop. i didn't want to. don't know why.
i found the shoes i needed. juniors department. figures. i passed the $120 pink leopard heels that i REALLY wanted, in favor of the simple black clunky pumps i needed for my coming party. i tried them on and even with my jeans they looked great so i figure they'll look great with my leather pants, too. love a multipurpose shoe. hope they don't hurt. no stockings though, i have to draw the line somewhere. besides, the stocking kept making them pop off my heels when i walked. without, perfection.
my bag in hand (after they order the shoes, apparently there is some lair where things appear from. what a store), i wandered out to the street but realized i'd chosen a different spinny door than the one i'd ventured in. undaunted, i pressed on. knowing i needed to find the subway. a much easier task from penn station, but i wasn't too far from where i'd come to street level and figured i could just go back to square one if i needed. it was simply a matter of circling macy's.
well, i found a subway. not the subway i needed. so after passing the jackhammering workers as fast as possible, i cornered an attendant who told me i had to go to 34th and 6th to get the F train. so, out to street again.
ultimately, i just enjoyed walking with the crowds. only once did i find myself in the middle of the street when the light changed and the taxis threatened to pancake me. though that would likely be worse for them than me.
i found the venue and went to get a gigantor slice of spinach and ricotta pizza. it was delish.
my reading was wonderful. i was present. i was bold. i opened the way i wanted to. was it perfect, no. it's been a long time since i've been to opens and read. there was evidence of that at first. but the crowd was mine. i owned them. no one soul shifted or left. i told them what i needed to, and they ate it up.
which, for being in the city is a huge, huge accomplishment.
after i finished, half the crowd departed, and i was grateful i was the first reader. the next lady couldn't keep them pinned, some got up to look at books while she read. others to use the bathroom, or go outside. lots of action.
but during my set, stillness prevailed. eyes were locked on me. and i was grateful.
did i do what i set out to do? bury this book? i don't know.
but i did meet a group of women, one of whom is a hebrew scholar, and she told me,
poets are the high priests of a culture.
i'll have to use that line,
i said,
see what i can do with it.
your work is very interesting.
she said, then she told me something i said during the reading, proof that she was listening for which i was grateful. i could see, during my read, that the works were affecting her. her face would crinkle or a slight smile would paint her cheek. it is the older women i want to reach these days. i lost my patience for the young a long time ago. but now, i'm entering a powerful sisterhood time. a season of sorority which i can neither deny nor neglect. but i've gotten away from my story, after she told me what i said, i told her,
i am a poet, i cannot just say one thing at once.
she smiled and insisted i sit beside her on the subway, and was so gracious, i gifted her my book.
how will i reach you?
she asked.
i wrote my digits and email in the book.
i'll write after i've read it,
she said.
as i rose to leave the subway, her face lit up and she held the book up for her friends (one of whom was the other featured reader, a professor from somewhere i can't recall),
i got a book!
she said. with the enthusiasm only a person of letters could appreciate.
and with that i exited the train.
so, i wander around the city at night a bit, looking for penn station, and found it easy enough. there was no panic in me this time. no concern. i knew it would be well. and i had my brother in law on the phone with me. he was telling me how grateful he was for my intervention into the goings on of their home of late. i really forced some issues and said,
this is how it's going to go down.
it was risky. i love him, he loves me. but one does not presume to tell a man how to lead his household. but he respects me, trusts me, and listened.
you were right.
he said last night.
but i was so preoccupied with finding penn. i couldn't have a convo about it. so i let it go. we'll talk later. there's always more time to talk later. i was grateful to have the voice of one who loves me on the phone though. sometimes that's all i need to help me through a rough patch. and it was hardly rough, but it was, deep down, what i needed.
so at penn, i find the signs, and even know how to read them. i run to the train in true veteran form (i had briefly considered waiting for the next one, but then, i figured, why not try, what's the worst that can happen) so i made a run for it.
of course the train was packed. and i got tude for days from the dude i stood too close to. there were seats but people sit in such a way, that unless you're really wanting to sit, it doesn't make sense to get all in their face just for one stop. so i stood there, and had to peel off the layers of jackets i had on because i'd run to the train and was shvitzing (don't know how to spell that).
perhaps that was his objection, i'm sure my wafts of smell, of patchouli, of me, were overwhelming him. but he wasn't a gentleman and didn't let me sit, so fuck him.
and i think i might have been singing, ear buds tucked securely in ears, because the guy in front of me kept doing that annoyed half turn of the one who wants to get a point across without saying something. but i tried not to sing. i was just happy, what can i say.
at secaucus, i stood in the wind of the tunnel and danced. it was fab. i didn't care who saw, who walked by, who watched, i was dancing while i waited for the train. how often does one get to fly, and touchdown doesn't have to be a downer.
on the train home my boss texted me a congratulatory note, and i was grateful. though my ex is blowing a gasket about my texting, it is how people communicate these days. and, well, what can i say. he'll kick me off his plan soon enough, it's time for me to separate everything anyway. no worries. never any worries.
then the conductor walks up. now, mind you, these are usual flabasaurusrexes with little in the way of sex appeal. but this guy had a few piercings in each ear, i could see his hair was pulled up into that conductor hat, and when he took my ticket i had to ask.
how long is your hair?
he smiled,
three quarters of the way down my back.
and i smiled.
he wandered by, but on his way back past me, he leaned over and said,
how could you tell?
i know what to look for,
i said.
i could see the pull of his hair upward, the line of his neck, so familiar. i know the look of a man with longhair, what can i say. and he was swarthy, a dark man. i don't see many of those who have the balls to be truly tribal.
he went back to work, and i had a long way to go to get home. so he passed a few times and we met eyes. i pulled out my card and gave him one the last time he passed.
are you tribal,
i asked.
lakota.
isleta pueblo,
i said.
how do you pronounce your last name?
and so i told him. it doesn't matter the rest of it. but it was nice. i left the train at my stop and he was standing there smiling.
talk to you later.
yes.
and so, it was a good night. i had fun.
