summer 2011

by Amy Turn Sharp


I get stuck on things.

I sit around and wonder if it is even possible for one of Hemingway's lovers to still be alive? Is there anyone left in the world that can say the words : I had sex with Ernest Hemingway?

I used to read the dictionary and the encyclopedia as a child. I was overwhelmed by all the things that were a part of the world. There was so much to learn about and understand and be afraid of when I put my head on pillows in the deep woods of Ohio.

I told myself that I would be the champion roller skater of the United States of America and every single day the summer I was about Finn's age I would skate back and forth on my concrete front porch slab to Toni Basil "Oh Mickey" and now this summer I am stuck on what Finn might want to be when he grows up. Only I don't want to ask him becuase I don't want to keep reminding him that this childhood thing will end.  He is so very good at it.

I am stuck on the way that I find it so very unfair that men's bodies seem to not age much. I looked at my husband in the nude last night as he walked away from me and down the hall and his ass is the same. His skin is the same. I could draw all the lines of his body, each curve, and they would match a decade back.  How is this?

And almond milk might give me weak bones but I love it so and there has to be more television created someday that will give me the same ache of "Six Feet Under" and I really want to know more about yoga. Tonight I attended a class and fifteen minutes into it I was thinking about India. I want strong knees and everyone around me seems to feel so good in the downward facing dog position.

I was just Finn's age when my mother took me to see "Chariots of Fire" and it was the fucking most boring movie that I had ever seen. It was like church and a scolding and clothing as a present all combined.  I unwrapped my candy and sucked soda. I still remember sleeping on my mom and how soft and comfortable she felt and the music swelled up the entire movie theatre, the one that has been closed for twenty years. I remember that she loved the movie so much and it may be the only movie that I have never seen. I have to see it this summer.

I am stuck on poetry and the off chance that my pulse is too fast.

My heart could beat irregularly sometime in the near future.

My head is a crowded house.