Month: January 2010

Biting Monkey Scam

Walking from home to ??, I come into a neighbor’s yard. There’s a pleasant, blond, young mother and a couple of her children in the yard. Also here are some dressed-up monkeys they are playing with.

The humans’ gestures welcome me to interact with them. I gingerly acquaint myself with the a monkey or two. One of the monkeys bite me. I smart for a second. The mother nonchalantly approaches me.

“That will be $25,” she says. She points to a sign posted on the house.

Monkey Bites
Nip $5
Nibble $10
Bite $25

I reluctantly accept this. The mom escorts me across the small yard to a small guest house/office. There, a brunette young lady, perhaps a college student paid a low wage for this job, proceeds to ring up and ask for 25 dollars.

Embarrassed, I dip into my wallet and fish out a 20 and 5. I hand it over.

As I’m leaving the little hut I find myself starting to say “Scam.” The brunette gives me the evil eye. She threatens me.

“Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam,” I repeat, louder and louder.

I feel the neighborhood has been alerted to me. I realize the whole neighborhood is in on it. Little golden-haired boys with large water-pistols petal on their bikes in a desperate attempt to stop me.

“Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam. Scam.”

Rock Creek Park, Raccoon Tree Overlook

Went to Rock Creek Park.  Took my bike on the metro. It was nice to see the snow on the rocks in the creek. Nice big creek. Good to see dogs off leash and having a good time scampering next to the river. Biked past the police station on Branch Road.

Took a walk next to the river. It was fun to see the animal tracks in the snow. Raccoon tracks? Maybe just squirrel tracks. Larger tracks. Maybe just dog tracks. Then the tracks went onto and across a nice big bark-less fallen tree: Raccoon tracks.

Got up the nerve to go onto the tree. I stepped on and proceeded slowly — shuffle, shuffle — half-inch by half-inch. It only felt right until I was dead in the middle. Looked onto the river coming down for a while. Turned, hmm, looks pretty good. Slowly turned and looked at the sun-laden river flowing away from me, various eddies swirling near and further down stream. Nice.

Then I knew the moment had passed and the journey was over.  Took forthright steps off the log.

Bellissimo

On a lark
found myself
in that dark secret restaurant
no one goes to
I’ll take the soup of the day
 my vain attempt to avoid
 extravagance
And desert to say farewell
 to another lovely person
Yes, I would like fresh ground pepper
 to give the soup some kick
“’O sole mio” belting out into
 the well–appointed empty room
Spinach–lobster soup
 Hearty and delicate
 Plenty of bread with which to dip
 And something in its craftsmanship
Some hidden source of quality
 Slows me
 I shift gears
 Look upon the playing of traffic
  lights refracting through the beveled glass
 Lose myself gazing at the Christmas
  light–encircled tree
And savor
Dip, dip, dip
Savor
Reflect
Gaze
Dip
Spoon

A bit of lightheadedness
some garrulous fullness overtakes me
 This happens on rare occasions
  unexpectedly in exotic places
   That restaurant in Quebec when
    I became giddy
I try to talk to the waiter
 as he is about to remove my bowl
Three times I work my mouth
 before I get the words out
Chocolate sauce for the vanilla pudding with raspberries?

They accommodate me with a delicate dribble
 of chocolate syrup over raspberry sauce
atop a ridiculously small mound of pudding
 and four raspberries
Still overcome by the soup I wait
Allowing more minutes and traffic to pass
 till I gently approach the plate
I carve out one small sliver and
Bomb out in its astonishing taste
 So, time stands still
  nibble by nibble
Each spoonful an era
 Regaling in the comradery of each wafting aria
And cherish every bit
What are those sparkling specks?
 Perhaps some pixie dust laced in it
Now, making it a stranger place,
 My lips start tingling ten seconds after each taste
Is this what life is
 So jam–packed with goodness
 that each tiny sliver is a world of foolishness?
The timeless moment drags on
 Confound it; I can’t finish this song
 I’m too full —
 Not another bite —
Please wrap it up and goodnight