A Patchwork Life

One of the links over there in my side bar is Paper Cuts, the blog of the book section of the New York Times, which I read regularly and always enjoy. There are a pair of threads recently that I’ve especially liked, one on poems of consolation for the lonely or heartbroken and another on novels (and short stories) of breakups and losses. I also read about a book recently called My Mistress’ Sparrow is Dead: Great Love Stories from Chekhov to Munro, which I’m adding to my summer reading list. My favorite discovery so far is from the poetic thread, a little witty gem from Raymond Carver that reminds me of my dear husband:

Still Looking Out for Number One

Now that you’ve gone away for five days,
I’ll smoke all the cigarettes I want,
where I want. Make biscuits and eat them
with jam and fat bacon. Loaf. Indulge
myself. Walk on the beach if I feel
like it. And I feel like it, alone and
thinking about when I was young. The people
then who loved me beyond reason.
And how I loved them above all others.
Except one. I’m saying I’ll do everything
I want here while you’re away!
But there’s one thing I won’t do.
I won’t sleep in our bed without you.
No. It doesn’t please me to do so.
I’ll sleep where I damn well feel like it –
where I sleep best when you’re away
and I can’t hold you the way I do.
On the broken sofa in my study.