Thanks to everybody who came to the Athanaeum and wrote micro-memoirs last week. I want to especially thank Risa Gilpin, who created a cloud of words and phrases from all the memoir readers. I have used the language she collected to weave together this multiple memoir from the evening. I hope it helps you remember all the unique voices you heard!
I was a tall child // Cleaving with the tamarack tree / weathered footbridge // He was my horse and I was his cowboy // Desire satisfaction man sandwich / slather with mayonnaise // My mother couldn’t cook at all // Fastest kid in the playground / me and mister flash // I hope bees come and sting you on the butt // Usually scary, rarely trusted, all that snarling / the dog was chained, not me // They took him out back // Haughtily high stepping / red wattles / movements revealed by ripples // Elephants did all the work // Stupified by beer / I’d guess rattlesnake // Cool to be a mermaid // Sailing equals yelling and tying knots // Sixteen eyeballs zuppa // Frozen dinners, cranberry chicken / my stomach not under control / covered with cold Atlantic // Ran through monsoons, torrents of water / one baffling dish after another // Nature an abstraction // Nature not fair // Pinch of his face / tethers pinning me to my seat / nauseated, stripped bare / I chewed the words // Too much information! // Brocade tablecloth / familiar diatribes // Interstate highway, chaos in my mind // Trees wrapped in white shroud of frost // Loud gaudy oversexed public TV // Roadhouse on the way to Giverny / bulls blood, sangre de toro // It ends with tortillas and eggs / fire escape searching for moon and stars / levántate, wake up! // Juicy, spicy, sweet, sour / I made it myself
Thanks to Risa Gilpin (left) and guest poster, Karen Donovan