This morning I walked to Massachusetts Avenue, to my local bagel place to buy bagels and cream cheese for my poetry group and found these signs in the window. Next door, there was a for-rent sign stuck on the window of the bakery and restaurant, Sweet Sue's, now out of business.
The Starbuck's in Arlington Center, a few blocks away, is advertising special deals on coffee; a shoe shop, and the Rio, the Brazillian restaurant, have both closed. Shops put out racks of clothing on the sidewalk to attract customers. The library is full of people reading newspapers. The cost of the daily New York Times is $2.00.
I may be cutting my own hair and shopping at thrift shops but I'm not giving up buying bagels for my poet friends. We ate as we read each other's poems and offered suggestions. These sessions are always helpful. I have three new poems: "Teens," "Sea Urchins," and "Lychee Nuts." They need a little tinkering, which I'll get to soon. One of JD's poems begins, "The boy plays the piano/ as if he's learning to masturbate." A poem by AF begins, "The first poem I sold/ I bought a pair of shoes." So poets lavishly spend their time.
