Irene at the Post Office
So for many many many years I've been writing a novel about upstate New York. Some of you know that. It's not easy for a thousand reasons that don't have much to do with sentences. I want to capture what I love, and it's THE PEOPLE and the chance to talk and listen and it's often what they say. Yesterday I wondered if the whole novel could be done in the What They Said manner. (That's probably even LESS commercial than my current notion of people and poems as evocation.) One of the recurring characters is IRENE, a postmistress. There aren't many people in town and not many letters either. She is 84. She has lived a lot. We all listen.
You won't believe this Irene often began and we knew we would believe her always you won't believe this she is one for restating for emphasis but last night I went out for dinner and drinks he offered to pay but I said no you don't have to pay for me I'm still working we went to dinner at that nice place on the road to Albany all the way over there and he said let me come inside when we got home you won't believe this she told all of us but what do you think he wanted? no way I said this is date number one. I've got my rules. Three she said three's his lucky number.