mmdcccxlviii

Are We Our Shelves?

When I looked at myself over
the mantle and into the mirror
all I could see of myself were all
of the green books behind me.

I’m quite proud of them. I may
never wear green out (or in, for
that matter) again, but I do sip the
occasional Lime Cucumber Lim-

on Pepino Gatorade; it’s actually
quite tasty and as it’s a rather
pleasing shade of green, it
perhaps should be called a

different color altogether.
Oh, it probably already is.
Like taupe and beige, or
fuchsia and just about

anything. Plus, back to the
Gatorade (and I honestly
have no idea if the name of it
is the flavor writ in English plus

its translation in perhaps
Spanish, or a subtle but
intended differentiation,
a sort of subverted, al-

tered meaning of some
sort that speaks something
special if you’re bilingual
[and can be in on the joke]

or, simply, like many cartons
and canisters and general
groceries of today [oh, the
modern world!], is simply

an iteration of its English
flavor on top and a reiter

ation of its Spanish [or what

ever] on the bottom? Which,

okay, is boring, if not
a tad obnoxious. That,
perhaps says way 
more about me than

should be given away,
unlike the fact that
I like my electrolytes
served a sort of late

oak leaf colored green.
And, unfortunately for
the world [in my humble
opinion, once more],

it is too bad if the
name of this drink is 

mere redundancy.)....

We need more word-

play in the world.
More enlightening
combinations that
set the mind ablaze;

that motivate, titillate
and inspire all at once.
But then, silly me, per-
haps we have that already,

maybe better (as in more
complex: layer upon layer
upon layer of meaning
that if you really delve

into can’t but make
your head explode),
in, say, late night tele-
vision. (I’m thinking

Stephen Colbert,
but pick your
favorite. It’s a
great time for

late night;
but let’s not
depress
ourselves

with all of

the reasons

that this phe-
nom might

be such a
phenom.)
And there’s
always con-

sistently mind-
twisting rap,
trending not
much longer

than I’ve been
around, and to

an even higher
degree now by the

knock-you-over tal-
ents of today’s rap

artists, e.g., that are 

often women wonder-

fully redefining
empowerment
by consistently
screwing with

the mainstream
notion of what
beauty is, etc.. 

But these are, 

in summation,
way too many
topics to even
begin to dive

into on a won-
derful day such
as today. But
can you tell

that I have a
healthy imagina-
tion? Perhaps a bit
too healthy, I wonder,

as I take another
extended gaze in-
to the giant mirror,
just to see that I

indeed remain in
this outlandish
outfit that is
quilted of every

possible hue of
green imaginable
(up to this point,
per my pea-brain,

anyway). What
a costume! Who
knew there could
possibly be such

off-putting varie-
ties of green?  The
color(s) of life.   And
I have always been

of the mind that
it is a horrid
color on me, 

perhaps because 

it’s such an earthy
hue, and I often
think of my attire
as too lifeless for

such. Today, how-
ever, I once again think
that maybe I had it wrong
all along. I mean look at

me. Or I do,
for a few more
moments, see-
ing the fantastic

in myself, which
feels pretty great.
I look into the mirror
just beyond my eyes,

notice the commotion
has already begun. And

so I drift, purposefully, 

away from the beautiful

mirror on my living
room wall to be-
come, as usual,
the life of the party.