Sometimes my impulses are bad. Like lighting up right after yoga. Or, lighting up right before yoga.

Sometimes my impulses are very bad. Like when I hand a favorite book to someone and say, "Oh yes. Sure, take it. You will love it. It is so wonderful. But when you're done with it, I would like it back."

Those impulses have left me without some treasured volumes. Which leads me to efforts at behavioral modification. I should stop with the giving away of the books expecting them to come back someday and just resign myself to the giving away of books. Because most people are adept at the borrowing of books. But the returning of books? Not so much.

NOTE: this does NOT apply to Tara as she is ALWAYS giving me volumes and volumes of books--generally new releases, often galleys. Although there was that one time when I loaned her that irreplacable, amazing book by the German woman about surviving WWII that is gone, gone, gone (I know because I've scoured her bookshelves). Sigh.

One beloved bouquin I have replaced multiple times is a thin volume of poetry by Ruth Forman, "We Are the Young Magicians."

God. I love this collection of poems. But when I reached for it recently I realized I had, yet again, given away my last copy. So, I did the simple thing and ordered it again. And this afternoon it arrived.

In it is a poem I shall dedicate to my dear friend Tara in celebration of her birthday (although her birthday is not this day). But seeing as she has been away enjoying the beaches of Mexico (bitch) and skiing in Tahoe (bitch, bitch) and won't be home until Sunday, I figured I might as well as post her birthday poem here. Because really, the entire month of March is obviously hers (bitch).

You So Woman

lady
when ya purple heels hit concrete
afros swing
cool jazz hot baby
strollin by cry amen

so holy
preachas stutta
thighs so righteous
pews jump up n catch the spirit n
hymns speak in tongues

so sweet
bees leave the daffodils behind
for honey you make table sugar taste sour n
Mrs. Butterworth sho can't find a damn thing to say
when you aroun

lookin so good
cockroaches ask you to step on em
sos they can see heaven
befo
and after they die n

you love ya people so much
if you was on pilgrimage
the Sahara Desert would run to the Atlantic
jus to make sure you don't get thirsty n
camels would kiss you for choosin they back

but Africa don't got you
we do n glad too

so girl
you jus keep on
makin the sunset procrastinate n
givin the rainbows a complex
you a silk earthquake
you a velvet hurricane
n girl you so woman
i be damn
if you don't put a full moon to shame.

~ Ruth Forman, We Are The Young Magicians

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