March 2024
J. R. Solonche
jrsolonche@gmail.com
jrsolonche@gmail.com
Bio Note: I am grateful to Karen Kelsay for nominating The Architect's House for the Eric Hoffer Book Award. I will not hold my breath.
In the Liquor Store
I met one of the librarians
in the liquor store. We both
bought the same red wine.
Going back to work or are
you done for the day? I asked.
Oh, my day isn’t done until
six, she said. But it’s so sunny
out. So warm. You should go
to the park, sit on a bench,
I said. I wish I could, she said.
Sure you can. Wordsworth says
so, I said. Yes, he did say that,
didn’t he? Up! up! my Friend,
and quit your books; Or surely
you'll grow double: Up! up! my
Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
she said. Can you recite all of
“The Tables Turned”? I said.
Sure can. I memorized it in high
school, she said. I’m impressed,
I said. My boss isn’t. Enjoy the
wine, she said. You, too, I said.
Work
It calls to me, the work
that needs to be done.
They beckon to me, the
jobs that want no waiting,
the tasks that require my
time. “Come sweep us
clean,” say the patio and
the walkway. “Come pull
us up,” say the weeds.
“Come mow me,” says the
lawn. “Come paint me
already,” says the shed door.
“Come wash me for once,”
says the car wiping pollen
from its eyes. “Go replace
me,” gestures the broken
birdbath weeping in the grass.
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