My Funny Friend

I am so amused by Afton's last comment on my Facebook status that I have to explain it here so everyone can know how funny and clever she is.

First a little background on my post...
I'm not a bath person. Kramer's comment, "Sitting in a tepid pool of your own filth", describes how I feel about bathing. Also, I get kind of bored just sitting there. But every once in a while, I really enjoy the hot soak. (However, I will never see it as an effective method of cleaning myself)

Two nights ago, I had about 3 hours of sleep. All of yesterday I was tired and sore. With the snowstorm, I got a chill and just could not get warm. Hot bath seemed like the answer. I needed something to read but was too tired for anything that would require a long period of concentration. I wasn't in the mood for brainless fiction. I settled on a book of Billy Collins poetry.

If you aren't familiar with Billy Collins, you are missing out. His poetry is so accessible. I love his imagery and humor. I've posted several of his poems before. Below is a favorite. I went to hear him read at the library a few years ago. He explained that he wrote this poem to mock a bad poem he had read.

You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.


Back to last night- After my bath, I felt great. Chill gone, totally relaxed, ready for an insomnia free night. I posted this on my Facebook.

I just had a steamy bath with Billy Collins. Very satisfying.

I thought I was pretty clever. I checked my account this morning and saw this comment from Afton.

You are the lighted candles
and the scented bath salts waiting to sooth tired muscles.
You are the mirror covered in steam
and the fluffy towel still smelling of fabric softener.

You are not the shiny hot water faucet,
nor are you the thread bare bath mat.
You could never be the thread bare bath mat.

It might interest you to know that
I am the cozy slippers
waiting patiently by the wall heater.
I am also the rose water tangerine bubble bath
that costs $15 a bottle at the fancy store in the mall
and the well loved copy of poetry, waiting to be read.

But you are still the lighted candles.
You will always be the lighted candles,
and the scented bath salts waiting to sooth tired muscles.
(With apologies to Billy Collins)

I’ve read it over and over. I’m so amused. Afton always cracks me up with her smart and subtle humor. This one may take the cake!