Friday, October 23, 2009

all this light in sunny ann arbor...

...and i had to buy a plant bulb from meijer.

because there's not enough light in my apartment. half garden, bottom floor buried. subtle in its white shadow of eggshell walls. every time i look at the bulb, i think of iguanas.

one of those animals, i imagine, that people buy as a sign of surrender. or retreat. after all, what else, exactly, do you need, when you yonder forth, light starved and bone dry, to an oasis of sand on a pilgrimage to forsake humanity and its vile ways? you've got a milewide dune of all-by-yourself. a mirage of solipsist bliss to shield you from the rag-a-tag world you've left behind. though i do picture, said trekker in this particular allegory, as a man of about 42, a shave shy of a mullet, in a black muscle shirt, faded black sweatpants with uncomfortable areas of wear, faded gym shoes tilted away from their origins. some belly fat. some shallow breath. and - for some reason - ankle weights. also black.

maybe i should take the bulb back to meijer. it, apparently, is not even intended for what i thought it was. once i got the bulb home and double checked the bulb fine print - which i bought thinking it would replace some lost chlorophyll for my greenies - indicates that for $4.97, it is guaranteed to "make plants look greener and healthier".

which i guess i do need, after all, considering the fuckers are withering away.

89.1 fm all night can only do so much.
i can talk to them till i'm chlorophyll in the face.

they want some sun, man. some ann arbor rays.

i'm hoping for some strange freak of miracle diffraction to come bounce some shine off the array of apartment walls and window bays blocking my plant's lovely view, and nose dive into my apartment - to splash in and cover my violets' furry little limbs.

maybe i should get some mirrors. or some solar panels. and don't say 'fuck the plants'.  i can't. they were my mother's.

any advice you have would be great.

1 comment:

Melissa D. said...

I heard once of a guy who came storming into a pet store looking for an iguana... not the baby kind that the pet stores sell, he needed a 3ft 8year old iguana because he had run over his girlfriend's while it was out in the yard, tied to a leash. Apparently, he thought if you can switch hamsters on a 5-year-old child, surely you can switch iguanas on a 24-year-old woman without her noticing.... right? :-)