A Few Resolutions

Last night, I was in what I think was the worst pain of my life, with menstrual cramps so bad that I literally couldn't breathe for ten or fifteen seconds at a time. The Boy, despite his dogged insistence that he wasn't tired and would stay up with me, passed out around four in the morning. I didn't have the heart to wake him, so I crept into a chair nearby and started making lists of things to distract myself from the fact that I could barely function.

My most important list consisted of ways I'm going to reduce my environmental impact. Yes, I get environmentally conscious when I'm suffering. Sue me.

Things I already do:

-ride a bike, walk, or take the bus everywhere
-re-use paper
-use as little water as possible
-drink tap water
-use a coffee mug instead of disposable cup (except from Cafe Soleil, where they use biodegradable "plastic" cups)
-buy local produce
-conserve electricity by using as little light as possible
-try to buy unpackaged (or sparingly packaged) food
-recycle
-buy organic, fair-trade coffees and teas

Eco-friendly things to continue or start using:

-dishwashing liquid (continue)
-detergent (continue)
-general cleaning products (continue)
-pads/tampons (start)
-shaving cream (start)
-conditioner (continue)
-lotion (continue)
-sunscreen (start)
-sponges (start)
-natural-fiber toothbrush/hairbrush
-toothpaste (continue)
-unbleached toilet paper, paper towels, coffee filters, etc. (continue)
-my fertilizer-free garden! which I'll have next year! (start)


Eco-friendly things that I can't afford now but will when I'm not a poor college student:

-100% natural-fiber clothing
-recyclable/biodegradable shoes
-100% organic food, especially locally produced

Spam cleverly disguised as poetry

I've been struggling with what Sicily means to me lately, because all I can come up with is home. And it was more than that, and less than that, and I was so insignificant among the sand dunes and the ruins.

Sicilia

Columns that held up the sky
temples ancient and crumbled
hills like brown patchwork to the horizon.
I will gain your sunburnt shore.

I will walk back home to you. I will
wear sandals and carry my heart in a backpack,
shuffle over the needled beach of Baltimore,
beyond the foam and fishermen.

The ocean will spread before me. I will walk
along its warm surface and sleep on whales
and eat fistfuls of salty plankton
as I pass the Straits of Gibraltar.

When stars begin to press themselves
into the vaulted darkness, then I will listen
for the waves, lapping at your edges
that reach seaward to pull me home.


( And another one, related in theme and imagery )