Shawn Huelle

Three Ton Coworker - Sunshine

"many a time in school I've had my mind like a circular table like a mirror / ready to be set with hope but when the teacher opens her mouth she besets / it with T.V. dinners" —Frank Stanford, The Battlefield Where the Moon Says I Love You, lines 3128-30

My first grade teacher was missing the first digit of her right pointer finger. She was embarrassed by this and so pointed at us, when necessary, with her right middle finger. Even in first grade, we understood that his was a borderline rude gesture. I remember her as a somewhat crabby woman.

My second grade teacher was missing her left hand and left arm up to the middle of her forearm. She had this bald, mobile nubbin which he had learned to use much like a hand. She often wore sleeveless polyester tops and matching slacks. She always wore bullet-shaped bras over her ample bosom. Her left, polyester-clad breast often had a rectangular white spot on it because she would hold the eraser against that breast with her nubbin. I remember her as a resolutely cheerful woman who taught us about conservation within the home and the Golden Rule.

My fifth grade teacher showed us David Lynch's film The Elephant Man, who wasn't so much missing physical bits as he had several excesses.

After fifth grade, I left that school. As far as I know, I have never had another teacher who was missing anything physical though of course I had several who struggled with excesses.

I just heard a mother say to her three-year-old daughter, "Okay, let's open your muffin." Every third person in this cafe is fat. We are living the dream. We are not living in a dream. We are living the dream. We pointed ourselves in this direction first in 1945 and then again in 1963. We looked at/for what was missing and decided the best way to fix it was with more.

Taking a break from this writing has taken a toll on the writing.

Beautiful pregnant women knitting and bebaseball-hatted guys wearing leather wrist bands.

Gesticulating, middle-aged artistes and at least three Subarus in my line of vision.

Sunshine.

[Three Ton Coworker is attempting to find its feet again.]