UNDER THE PLANTS

 

And it’s raining inside my head…

David Sedaris, his occupation as the funniest writer in America, has once again affected my life through a street poet collecting money in exchange for a spoken word show. Give me any title of a book, he boasted, and I’ll give you an impromptu poem. “When You Are Engulfed In Fire.” (Of course by the maestro, D.S., I had handy.) Here’s what can be said of his performance worth so much more than five bucks, if I had more cash I would’ve dropped a few more bills in his case: dynamite. His theme was the use of “conflagrations within” as the light that could be you- given the power of your will to burn. He articulated a flash of gospel without being Pentecostal. He sermoned a romantic song to see your passions assume. And all this verse under two minutes in one breath. I have to admit that the “title” I provided wasn’t that tricky to compose something creative, the imagery was already embedded there, biblical or in comic books referentially so. But otherwise the poem barker made my day and had inspired me more of the direct relevance of poetry in my life, even at random moments. And the encounter wasn’t meant as a hilarious thing purporting the blog; it’s what lead to it that was a bit strange. David S.’s book “When…” was on top of the pile in my bag of seven others I got at Elliot Bay, and outside its door the disciple with the gift of gab stopping me in my tracks, D.S. is very entertaining (you should read his works) that I hope this poem ricocheted to him as a gesture of thanks for making this serious poet sometimes laugh, with all his hard work lately feeling as though engulfed in fire and needing to lighten up. A divine “intervention” comedy, to say the least.

I hope D.S. likes my humble attempt at a punch line inspired when waking up this morning and head against a wall opening my eyes to a windowsill of cozy plants that “rained on me.” It was a welcome blessing, so to speak, as well as the lemon lavender frosted Bundt cake reality waiting on the picnic mat at the botanical garden where I was spending time with more plants under the maple tree. Forests move me, I move forests. I lay in their grass everywhere I am.