For some time I’ve been contemplating writing a guest spot for my Wife’s blog. I thought since she gives the broad strokes of what’s been going on in NJ, I’d set forth to create a window into the smaller, less visible aspects of our life. While such a view is by nature narrower, it offers a more nuanced perspective. So I hope it will sketch in some of the details and display more of our unique character.
This first guest spot is a poem I wrote. I was reading some essays by Eugene Peterson from his book Subversive Spirituality. He’s a well known pastor and scholar and he utilizes a lot of classic literature and poetry to give depth to his writing. I thought I would try to explore my own artistic faculties in preparation for this next academic year. So this is a first attempt and may expose me as a novice poet.
Some clarifications I bet my wife would feel better if I included. First, I apologize for the expletive in the first line. Second, she defended the odor of the couch, which I could not debate since my nose is mostly ornamental. On its best day it can barely be bothered to be breathed through, much less smell anything with any reliability. So, I know I couldn’t out smell Kaley on the smellingest day of my life. Third, the stains are nearly invisible and can only be seen by the trained observer. All this is just to say, please, no one send us a new couch, because this one really isn’t all that shabby, although I assure you many will find it rather ugly in person.
The Golden Years of My Furniture
By Zach Grant
Yellow couch you look like shit
Like Big Bird ate dayglow threadbare mustard
My cat retched up tarry bile on you
The stains scrubbed into a rusty tint
Chronicling “cheechy-mon’s” digestive misfortunes
You smell like you look
I’d end you with fire by the tracks
But my wife loves you
And so do I