September 27th

 Since I came up with this project in July, a certain friend has been saying that one of the Monday's at the Met better be rainy so that I would have to write outside underneath an umbrella. I teased back that if that happened he would have to come with me and hold the umbrella while I wrote. Today it rained. All day. However I did not carry through with my threat and I wrote outside on a wet bench all on my own. I checked an hourly forecast before I left and so had scheduled my writing period to coincide with what was supposed to be the least rain filled part of the day. It really wasn't that bad at first just a little drizzle, although by the time I left it had worsened.

Kingdom Without a Monarch 

The Midtown fog
has developed feelings
for the Plaza, 

affection for the Central
Park Zoo. Pigeons pass
the Met, dip beaks into puddles.

Ladies do not come out
in the rain. Watch it
through binocular's,
order a cab.

Factors
Day of the Week: Monday
Weather: Rainy
Arrived at: 3:00
Departed at: 4:00
Read on Commute:  Cider House Rules by John Irving (improving, maybe?)

September 20th

Ten more days! Two thirds of the way through and a beautiful Monday to spend outdoors. Jacob and I brought delicious sandwiches and ate before I wrote. Today he was accompanying to enjoy the park, not to write. We went for a walk afterwords and saw turtles and lots of nannies and private school kids.

I wrote on the grass outside the Sackler wing also known as the home of the Temple of Dendur. They were setting up for an event inside. All sorts of white table cloths and sound equipment.



The World Burns a Brighter Blue

I meant to share the smoked salmon,
but I could not sacrifice
the quiet porch. Others busy
with trays on steps, salting tomatoes.
 That night the ocean tossed up
florescent jellyfish.
Grandmother, a day before eighty,
cupped one in her hands. A greenish
glow visible between fingers.
In the light of a fire and twenty candles
we sang Happy Birthday. My brother
smelling of charcoal, of beef,
arm around my waist.



Factors
Day of the Week: Monday
Weather: Sunny, cool in shade, breezy.
Arrived at: 12:40
Departed at: 2:15
Read on Commute: Thunderstruck by Eric Larson (still disappointing me).

September 13th

Today I started my second notebook of the project, having filled the first one yesterday. I was surprised by how many people were around. Most planning to go into the museum, and were surprised it was closed. There where also some maintenance workers on break and a tourist group looking for a photo opportunity.

I was surprised that the door on the right was left open for a guard to let employees in (I just assumed that those who worked Monday entered through the more discreet doors on the lower level). It also made it possible for tourists to at least glance into the grand entryway.

I started out trying to write on the steps but it was too sunny and a little uncomfortable so I moved to the shaded benches that run along the right side of the front of the museum. It was shady and quiet. Very pleasant.




Countdown Tango

We've got a dance
one card over,
and the dry ice
in the fridge,
Leonard Cohen
on the jukebox.
Plenty of time
to kill, I kid.

The buildings keep
collapsing, the sun don't
shine the same.
Rythm's all I remember,
isn't that a shame?

Drink one glass
then another.
Step left, right
and back. We will
play a happy ditty,
guns behind our backs.



Factors
Day of the Week: Monday
Occupancy of Museum: Empty (presumably).
Arrived at: !0:00
Departed at: 11:00
Read on Commute: The Black Dahlia by James Elroy
Weather: Crisp with a side of sunshine.