01 December 2008

June

"Oh June...." they would say.
June has red hair and sleek eyebrows. She has a long neck (like a ballerina) and a small freckle on her earlobe.

"June?" says Jake, "What do you love?"

"Whatever I love," says June, "I love the most at 4:32 AM."

June hasn't repainted the house (the outside) and the paint is chipping like her fingernails and the tip of the nose of the garden gnome. June hasn't cut the grass in ages (the monkey grass) but she personally picks all the dandelions.

"June?" says Jake, "Would you please turn that music down?"

"It is down," says June, "It is the saddest song I know."

June's grandmother lives in a room that smells like cinnamon rolls and has curtains with big yellow blossoms. She (the grandmother) crochets little snowflakes that June puts on her dresses. June's tension is off on her sewing machine.

"Grandmother," says June, "Green tea makes you defensive. Try roobinos."

June walks down one side of the street and runs down the other. She cut her hair to above her ears and bought a pair of glasses from Paris* (the thrift store).

"June?" says Jake, "No one will believe that big diamond on your finger is real, you silly goose."

"I'm married to Mr. Cordova," says June. "He is a scientist in Brazil." June lays in the grass and closes her eyes, she can see the sun through her eyelids and hear the ants scrambling nearby. She runs to the market to buy basil for her grandmother,

there are grass strains on her ballet slippers. Oh, June...

No comments: