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February 13, 2006

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Today I envisioned gravity as hands
reaching up out of the planet to drag you
down after Noel talked about ski jumps.
We broke down the Flower & Garden Show
in record time, two quick truckloads,
back outside rain had turned to butter sun
then back to rain crossing Lake Washington.
Waimea brewpub in Kirkland is turning over
into Wilde Rover, a gay place, and the new
owners were kind enough to denail a bunch
of trim
and donate copper & bamboo lights.
Elsewhere in Kirkland, another restaurant,
defunct since 2002, adorned with kitsch
and curios. It didn't smell as bad as you'd
think it would. It was faux old to begin with
and now it's getting crunched for condos.
A table in the corner bore a brass plaque
dedicated to one of the co-owners--1988.
We took mostly racks, divisions of space
to hold things against gravity
. We found
30-lb. ledgers showing debts and transactions
of the Forsyth Mercantile Co., 1938 - 1969.
Same year as alleged moon landing people
were still dipping nibs in ink, charting the
numbers that divided people between solid
citizens and fiscal disgrace, the difference
between timely payments & swelling interest.
Sunset back at our own store, the sky was
crowded with curious faces hurrying south....
Below them: beds made, unmade, or occupied.