Rachel M. Simon

When You’re Not Allowed to Daydream

One can live for years not knowing the teaspoon is inaccurate. Call
the bureau of weights and measures. They’ll understand. In
massage school I learned to rub a full belly in a clockwise motion to
aid in digestion. In the theory of orange, what is the best way to
skin a grape? The citrus board feels strongly about the marketing
campaign’s mouth sores. Cracking a stranger’s knuckles will not
necessarily lead to mold under the nails. A Yogi can get away with
that posture. I know to slouch is not the answer, yet all these crazy
and abusive men never have a shortage of wives. No, I never could
touch my toes. The irony doesn’t end there. I kill bugs with my
palm. If I had that many legs I wouldn’t waste my time on some
mediocre ceiling. When I fly I never dress for the occasion. When I
land you can appreciate the thud. Just keep running, the parasail
will take care of you. If the wind deposits you in a gift shop it is
only appropriate to buy one moderately priced tchotchke.

Rachel M. Simon
When You’re Not Allowed to Daydream is from Theory of Orange (Pavement Saw Press, 2007).