Photo by Daryl Edelstein of Through My Eyes and On the m104: Out & About In New York City.
Well this is cool. I had already posted this snippet, and then clicked my way along to Fireblossom's prompt at Real Toads, which is to select one of this talented photographer's photos and write about it. The tombstone photo is timely, two birds with one stone. This is not, in any way, a serious "poem" - just a funny thought or two I have around the weighty matter of my Name Which is Not My Name.
Well this is cool. I had already posted this snippet, and then clicked my way along to Fireblossom's prompt at Real Toads, which is to select one of this talented photographer's photos and write about it. The tombstone photo is timely, two birds with one stone. This is not, in any way, a serious "poem" - just a funny thought or two I have around the weighty matter of my Name Which is Not My Name.
There is a slight dilemma about my last name.
It isnt mine.
It isnt mine.
It didnt fit me, even at the time.
I carry my ancient old hoary married name from 1966
like an albatross around my neck
that I am constantly flicking off.
I flicked off the marriage in 1972.
It appears I move slowly in dealing with the details.
First I kept it so my kids and I would have
the same last name while they went through school.
I had hoped to spare them embarrassment.
Turns out they were far more embarrassed by ME,
and my generally eccentric behavior.
In recent years, the name has not worked for me AT ALL.
When forced to give it, I always add a disclaimer.
It may even be the source of my difficulties,
being incongruent with my spiritual and personal evolution,
but I have remained too impecunious
and terminally exhausted, to deal with changing it legally.
I have the name picked out that I want.
It is my grandma's name.
I have warned my family not to put my married name
on my tombstone, or I'll come back and haunt them.
I may come back and haunt them anyway,
just on general principles.
This has to be the year to tackle this important dichotomy
and claim the name that fits me.
The tombstone is creeping closer.
Every now and then,out of the corner of my eye,
I see it lurking.An aside: Last night I dreamed that Pup and I had lost each other. We couldnt find each other, though we were looking everywhere. But before I woke up, I found him, with great relief. I am taking that as an underlying message, and it comforts me.
