Much Musing

Hey, everyone.

Has anyone ever stopped to consider the 1599 other kids attending their fair institution? Not so much? How about the other 399 in your year? Getting warmer?

Okay.

Well, I have, at least in terms of my major and then I realized: I don’t really know who my fellow English majors are. Okay, so that’s somewhat of a lie and/or fabrication because I see the same familiar faces in almost all of my classes within the major, but it does bring up an interesting question: Why is there no formalized way to figure out who is dedicating themselves to the same major as I am? Maybe there is a list somewhere and I’m just being thick, but I think it would be useful if each department, somewhere on their website, always had an updated list of people who have declared that major (maybe updated at the beginning of each semester?).

At least that way, I could seek out another ‘09 I’d like to talk about the comps. summer reading with or at least know for sure that that cute girl in my Fiction Writing class is in fact a major and not just a poseur from whatever else department.

But in general, it might create a nice feeling of community within the majors and who would fight that?

The Pool

Intoxicating chlorine taste or smell
(It’s in our mouth, nose, eyes)
Suffocates the pureness of summer sweat,
Layered on soft skin, exorcised in rinses.

We do not know what’s underneath -
Surfacing is met with more blue, but below
The sunshine glow permeates, adding something
(Permanence? Energy?) to swimmers.

What is left after towels dry off
Bodies, corrosive abrasions like acid
Ripped from surfaces, or given back
Once the sun slaps rays upon the pool?

One of my first and only memories of our time together was from the night we spent watching fireworks in Asberry Park. I always find it hard to forget because she was wearing an amazing green sun dress and even more amazing smile. Those were the things that always kept her in my mind — her laugh, her kiss, her sense of justice. She always knew how to make me feel like me.

The night was exhaustingly warm, the sort of warm that makes dogs heave, that emanates waves of heat into the sunny air. We dressed light then, myself in shorts and a polo shirt, she in that same beautiful pistachio green spring dress. Hand-in-hand, we entered the park minutes before dusk. All of the real estate was jammed full of local patrons waiting for the show in the sky, but we weaved our way through to a soft spot of grass in a less dense area.

It’s here where my memory is most clear. She asked, “Do you ever wonder what’s going on?” And I laughed at the incredulity of her question.

“Clearly? I mean, who doesn’t? If you don’t, isn’t that not living in the moment?”

“No, but I mean, do you REALLY ever stop, literally stop, to think?”

I considered this for a moment, not quite sure what she was getting at. “Well, yes and no. Part of me is in disbelief that I’m here in this park on a gorgeous summer night with a beautiful girl. That’s what I’m thinking about on the most basic level, but I don’t want to stop to think because then I’m missing the moment just being present with you, you know?”

She smiled then, seemingly satisfied with my answer and wrapped her arms around my waist as she stood behind me, her head poking out to my right side. I looked down at her and smiled–no, grinned. I was a grinning fool.

We stood like that for some time until our gaze was broken violently by a huge crack in the sky. The show had begun and all the sky was alight with reds, blues, whites, and multiple sparks of light. I really stopped to think then. How could something so loud and so illuminating be attractive? I always fell for subtleties. But somehow, these firecrackers demanded attention and got it.

Her voice invaded my inner monologue. “Will you…will you just look at me right now?” she asked, tenatively.

I whipped around and peered into her light blue eyes. “I’m here. I’m here for you.”

“Just lie down here with me and hold me.”

We slowly descended to the grass and I wrapped her close into me, all the while staring into those eyes, and at that moment, I swear I saw the fireworks.