Poems for Paul: a Fund-Raiser for Our Wedding Bands

In a small bookstore in Putnam, Connecticut there are two remaining hand-bound books of poetry by a local poet. I know about them because that local poet is myself. The book is called Poems for Paul. It is a collection gathered from notebooks, computer files, and messy drawers, arranged more or less chronologically, and put together with some pictures on a home computer, all for the purpose of raising money for our wedding bands.

A sign describes the process of the books' construction: "I saved my pennies until I had enough for ink, then I printed 15 copies... then ran out of paper! I cut the pages with dull scissors and leaned my whole body against a hole-puncher 3 times per binding, inadvertently making something like wedding confetti all over the carpet. I tied it all together with 'something blue', then hand-sculpted the edge for easier page-turning. It has been a labor of love, self-reflection, and paper cuts."

I calculated that at $15.00 each I would have to sell 15 copies to afford his simple ring. Laborious as it was, I could have made more. I could have sold more than 15 copies to my family alone. But placing my little treasures where I did made more sense in many ways. For one, it was a public demonstration of my devotion to this man, a kind of warm-up for the big day. I was able to make friends with the owner of Wonderland Books, and to bring in a tiny bit more business with what little advertising I did. I was able to offer as much or as little of myself as I wished. That is, I was a salesperson on my own terms, asking only for what I needed, and selling only to those who would appreciate the value.

May 17th I sat at a table for an hour with my books, curious to see who would come, knowing that whoever did come truly wanted to know my soul-- and that ended up being my ever-supportive memere and her friend, on their way to see a play at the Bradley Theater. I read a poem about birdseed and time to the patient child of a customer, which I like to think may one day subconsciously contribute to a Zen-like epiphany later in his life. I met a few people, sold a few books, and was told more than once that the rings are not important.

A wedding band is not the actual promise, but it is an important ceremonial gesture. I think that the world needs more ceremonial gestures. As the rings will be purchased from a chain jeweler at the mall whose main motivation is profit, it will help Paul and I to remember that what paid for it was an honest demonstration of creative love. It will help us not to feel taken advantage of when they offer the lifetime guarantees, insurance, discounts of future cleanings and sizings if we only pay more now...