Cold Comferts

I habnt posted on my blog inna long time. Kyle sez we been OBE - Obercome by Evints. I guess so.

I'm 14 now. My birfday was in August. But we habnt had my party yet. Dat bites, huh? But last night, I gots some Frosty Paws ice cream fur dogs. Uncle Joe gots it fur me atta store. Kyle put it in my bowl and I werked on it for quite a while. ... Good stuff, Maynard!

My bed changed. I got home last night, after spending about a week at my gramparents house, 'cuz Kyle was sick and stuff, and my bed was differint. I usta have a big thick quilt on top of my old fuzzy blue bed. But Kyle took the quilt and washt it an put it away, 'cuz his Grandma made it an' he said there won't be no more quilts like dat in da werld 'cuz Grandma went to heaven, so we are gonna save it.

This is really weird, because I wrote a poem about dis 5 years ago. After I wrote it, and a long time went by, an I couldnt git up onna bed enymore, Kyle let me use the quilt fur a while. Now I gots da old blue bed and a soft beach towel, folded up. An Kyle is looking for somethin' bigger an' thicker, like

THE LOVE QUILT

I'm not supposed to be on this bed,
but the man isn't watching.
Not supposed to be on the grandma quilt,
the mostly yellow one with squares
of red and blue; the man thinks I'm
color blind. The little tassels of yarn
tickle my nose. I hope the man doesn't
see me sleeping here. He says this quilt
is just for love, like a leash between people
or a toy just for later. A dog needs this
love if she lives with a poet.

Tasha
July 13, 1999