Inside each and every female is the character of a Superhero hoping to be set free. In other words, we have inner Superheroes. Yesterday, during Bones for Life class, I was sitting at the kitchen table and I happened to glance over at the refrigerator. I then envisioned myself reaching over, and with one hand picking up this appliance, and balancing it on my hand, the way a seal would balance a ball on its nose. I did not say anything to anyone because I know that I’m already considered to be a few bubbles off plum.
I never imagine saving people, but I do imagine saving animals. The other night I saw a video taken in Southern California – they have been getting torrential rains in this area for some time. This video was of horses trapped in their paddocks. And the poor animals were up to their bellies in water. All were amazingly calm; it was as if they knew they had to conserve their energy because they were in a shitload of trouble.
I’ve been thinking about ways in which they might be saved. The only thing I can think of is that someone needs to go into the area with a boat, put a lead rope on each one, and lead them out. I did consider the helicopter option, but the noise of this form of machinery would freak the poor animals out.
I wouldn’t regard this form of rescue as being heroic, but rather being necessary. If you need accolades, then there is something inside you that didn’t see the task at hand as being all that important.
Last night I was unable to sleep. So I got up and wrote another Superwoman poem, this one’s entitled Fire. It’s about Superwoman’s first heroic deed, which took place at age 13. She went into a preschool and rescued two young children. One lived and one died. She then had to begin to deal with the downside of being a superhero – fame and acclaim. Was young, and not prepared for this. This is true to life.
In my head everything is true to live. I am really good at making the imaginative leap and suspending disbelief. My mantra is ta pocketa, ta pocketa. And in the words of Kurt Vonnegut, and so it goes.
Next: 58. 2/27/17 Just Another Day