A Whale of Love

L is in a gunk of a conundrum. An old flame is reigniting the embers of a love frowned upon by the old folks. "A date is under wraps," her text read. "What shall I do?" Certainly, I cannot unwrap it, can I?

"Keep your nose on the grindstone," I advised. "Focus on your studies, get enough rest," I added, sounding granny as usual.

Can love be put in deferment for other priorities? The rational self shouts yes! But what could be a bigger priority than love? What's eating my bravado, my bold pronunciamento that there are degrees for burn but not for gugma? The phoniness reeks but sometimes, phoniness is the best policy, that much I can convey.

Haay, "how long, how must I sing this song?" - don't come to me for love advice, not until whales start swinging from tree to tree and chimpanzees frolic in the ocean. Have this scientific fact tattooed: Dyndyn, a denizen of Santan Street, is a love-idiot.

Speaking of whales, let me post this poem, my Sunday prayer which I find uplifting, a vessel of hope, transcending all the indignities this world sometimes brings forth.

Things to do in the Belly of a Whale

Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days. Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals. Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices. Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review each of your life's ten million choices. Endure moments of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you. Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart. Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope, where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all the things you did and could have done. Remember treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.

("Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale" by Dan Albergotti from The Boatloads.© BOA Editions, Ltd., 2008).