LOVE POEMS

I was sick for two weeks, then spent a lot of time working on my memoir.  This week I started teaching a new Creative Nonfiction class through Club Ed. Part of this week's assignment is to write a love letter to yourself from either an historical person, fictional character, animal or inanimate object. So here's mine, in the form of a poem:

A LOVE POEM FROM MY STAPLER

For Valentine’s Day 2012

I never liked being brown.

I wanted to be black

like the other Swingline Staplers

on the shelf at Palisades Stationers. 

How happy you made me

when you picked me up

and stroked me and said softly,

“I think this one’s cute.”

I remember you taking me out of the bag,

placing me on your mission style desk

beside the lovely Japanese cream and sugars jars,

with their geishas and swirling clouds.

It made me feel so glamorous.

Our first years together on

Pacific Coast Highway

I was happy to staple the timecards

from Marina Nautilus,  every two weeks

when you cut the pay checks.

The years in your condo

I liked looking out over the living room

to your kitchen wall where the big mirror

reflected my image back to me,

it made me feel less lonely.

Then, twenty years in the mountains.

It took a while to get used to the elevation

and the cold. I remember that first winter

when you were reluctant to turn on the heat.

In 1994 you wrote an ode to me

and I knew then that we were a perfect match.

You forgave me for growing old, you even liked

that I wasn’t perfect anymore.

And now, in Texas, I wait on the shelf

beneath your keyboard, looking at your shins,

watching as the dog plops down on the carpet,

and the cat pads past on her way to the couch.

I love you Mary Lee. I am yours

always. You are my owner and I am

your stapler, ready to bite into

whatever papers you decide

should be joined, like man and wife,

like brother and sister, bound together

always or until trash day comes

and you decide otherwise.