Clouds, Potatoes, Timothy Donnelly [by Jennifer Michael Hecht]

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Dear Bleaders,

White sky out there seemed to call for this poem by Timothy Donnelly, of the wonderful Twenty-Seven Props for a Production of Eine Lebenszeit and The Cloud Corporation.

Epitaph by His Own Hand

From the morning he
started

peeling his first potato

 

he felt like he'd been
peeling

potatoes for eternity-

 

all that fell about his
ankles

like clouds' inky
shadows

 

smudged across pastures

of an afterlife clearly

 

put farther away from
him

the harder he worked for
it.

 

-Timothy Donnelly

 

It's true! Potato peelings look
like clouds. Or rather like the shadows of clouds.

 

Every time you peel a
potato you pick up just where you peeled your last potato. Life is just one long
potato peel interrupted by weeks of nonsense and then returns, at last, to the
spud and the knife.

 

No, but I like the
misery of this little poem. Don’t always gnaw the heel of the bread, stop
working hard for your reward.

 

Instead, look up at the
clouds and see them from upside down, as if they were on the ground around your
chair, flapping down from your lap as you sheer thin shapes off a bulbous, knotty
loaf of the stuff, whatever it is. Busy day.

 

Don't kill yourself and I will return to encourage you yet again.

love,

Jennifer