Friday Inspiration -- Merrit Malloy

I found Merrit Malloy's first book of poetry, My Song for Him who Never Sang to Me, in a college reading room when I was attending a summer camp there at age 13. I picked up the book because the title intrigued me. The stamp in the book said "SUB Reading Room - Read, Enjoy, Return."

My moral compass wasn't so strong then, so needless to say, this book did not get returned; I was instantly obsessed.

Anyone who loves love could not help but be inspired by her words. She manages to capture the feelings of loneliness, hope, and anticipation in those delicious first-moments. I am a sucker for the love line in life as well as any story I read or have ever written, so these totally resonate with me. She also writes about her love of her children and friends, so there is something different I relate to each time I go back through her books.

It was hinted inside that first book I found that she had written another title. I checked at the Barnes and Noble and was told that there were several more titles, all out of print. This was before the proliferation of the internet and the ability to Google and find anything under the sun, so I spent the next couple of years checking every used book shop, thrift store, or antique store that may have books on the off chance I could find one of hers. Then there was Google, and Alibris, and Amazon, and it turns out she wrote 5 books of poetry in all, My Song for Him..., Things I Meant to Say to You when We Were Old, We Hardly See Each Other Anymore, Beware of Older Men, and The People Who Didn't Say Goodbye. I was able to complete my collection by the time I was 24.

It pains me to think of these inspirations kept locked up inside the books, so I wanted to share some of her poems from time to time. The first one I'd like to share is from Things I Meant to Say to You when We Were Old, it is untitled, on page 31 in my edition, copyright 1977.

I found your jeans today . . .
. . . In the box with the Christmas lights
And old feelings
Came like parachutes
To rest me on the basement floor. . .

You know . . . I really liked you
I think you were the best playmate
I've ever had . . .
Even now . . .
I have some plans . . . left over
Like your jeans
That would only fit on you . . .