rush

i heard him in the shower and moaned
it was going to be one of those mornings when my space would not be my space one of those mornings that i could easily stay in bed curled up
in my blankets, my feather pillow
beneath my head dreaming instead of planning
scheming oh please give me a way out---
before 5:00 am he knocked on the door
did you get me that phone?
no
then more
do me a big big favor?
what is it?
sew a patch on my jeans?
no i dont really want to, but i suppose i'll have to
fine I'll do it myself
i would let you but you need to use the sewing machine, set it up
so he did
and i did
and well he was happy, and i was my old self, proud i could accomplish something that many people couldn't or wouldn't want to do

i like to sew, it has a meditative effect
much like ironing, that process too has a reflective state while in the doing

years ago women, who did not come with money, worked in the home, they sewed, they ironed, they took an entire day to do laundry, they even shoveled their own coal, grew potatoes in their cellars, and grapes vines in their yards, they cooked, and scrubbed, and still made love....

my my mind does wander...

how little space is does one own?
that the answer is none
even when alone you are sharing space

I loved the book the Subtle Knife, to have a knife that cuts a hole into another world and then back into your own, yes exciting, treacherous, dangerous, but oh what a form of escapism

a transporter would be good too.
right now i have to transport myself to work ---