Muddy Waters #7
A Continuing Love Story
I have a sad tale to tell. In issue #5 I (and my faithful correspondent) gallantly reported on Kentucky Fried Chicken and their wonderful barbecue chicken sandwich. Unfortunately, one Sunday afternoon, not long ago, I pulled up to the KFC drive-thru and requested two barbecue chicken sandwiches. The distorted voice on the other end of the microphone/speaker thing replied, "We don't carry that anymore, can I get you anything else?" I was devastated. My eyes began to blur, my hands began to shake. Then I ordered a chicken pie that they make instead of the sandwiches and it wasn't all that bad and I felt better. I guess it wasn't a sad story after all.
I received a pack of 30 plastic, phosphorescent stars from a close friend. I was quite overjoyed since we share a mutual interest in the heavens and waited a while pondering what constellation(s) I should recreate on my ceiling. After a day of thought, I broke my neck to tape Orion and Leo above my bed; 22 for the hunter and 6 for Leo (with two left over). Why Orion? If anyone knows anything of Orion, they know he is a powerful man. Why Leo? Leo is a Lion. Lions are beautiful. They may have long manes or short manes, but they're always beautiful. The shape of their bodies is so streamlined yet still more powerful and agile than almost any other animal on land. I believe lions are the embodiment of perfection in the animal world. The female lion can be especially fierce. When threatened, her emotional and physical response can be compared to that of a school of sharks. She will stand her ground to the death, never releasing her position... unless influenced by a large male, and even then she will still act somewhat belligerent; but usually she has the say-so in the romantic relationship. She makes a friendship with the male that lasts a lifetime. She will follow him in whatever he does, and she will never question his judgement unless she is convinced she is right. She rarely ever leaves the harem, but if she should wander off or be left behind on some strange occasion, she will always love him at a distance.
He dragged himself out of everything. He anticipated, but nothing. He descended. Everyone was there among the trash and skyscrapers. No one was hurt or dying, although some were hurt and others were dying but aside from that, everyone was in perfect health. Upon emerging from his friends he saw an old friend of his waving from above. He climbed again to find him but no one was there. He glanced back and his friend waved from the middle. It seemed he had climbed too high; overcalculated. He tried to go back down but faltered on the way and the ground rushed him and he daintily relaxed on the eternal asphalt. He seemed like such a nice man. Not many mourned. And he noticed others looking around, anathematizing the unconquerable face, remembering what they had for lunch today, remembering why they can't spell tomorrow. He made a note: "They lament themselves."
Awake
By Dorianne Laux
Now, I'm no scholar or anything, but I know what I like and I know what's
real, and Awake by Dorianne Laux certainly meets this criteria. This is Dorianne's first
book of poetry published by Boa Editions, Ltd. in 1990. Here I find a poet who has
actually lived through life whereas most of us have only lived in life. And she writes
of life all in terms of pain, compassion, and love. Unlike others of her ilk, Ms. Laux
has accomplished the feat of telling dark, beautiful, and spiritual stories using words
that anyone can understand. Be he dumb as a brick or intelligent enough not to think
of the Lone Ranger when he hears the "William Tell Overture," he can understand the
poems contained in this wonderful piece of literature. She writes of the world and all
parts of it, good, bad and ugly. The first section of the book deals with Laux's
childhood, family, and friends and her feelings toward them. In the first poem,
"Ghosts," she writes:
A woman appears beneath his feet, borrows
paint, takes it onto her thin brush
like a tongue. Her sweater is the color
of tender lemons. This is the beginning
of their love, bare and simple
as that wet room.
Then she goes on about the first time she loved and how she felt about it, as any good poet would, but with such an honest innocence. Throughout the next two sections (for a total of three!), she delves into the trials, tribulations, and gratification of motherhood and lots more reality. I'm sure that Dorianne Laux has to be on of the better poets of my lifetime although she does use a lot of big words sometimes that really don't fit the overall emotion of the point she's trying to get across; but this is the only problem I have with her style. I really am looking forward to another book of her poetry if there's going to be one (or maybe there already is one.. who knows?), and I suggest that you go to the library and check out this one. But I do warn you that some subject matter is a bit graphic and may make you nauseous at times, but I like that. Reality is always nauseous.
Eclectic
by Kathleen
She imagined me
Morphine Green, chalky, powerless
worlds without lessons
there were ecclesiastical shrines
pronounced in the corners of a room full of glass
How many wax faces
whined down to little smudges of handles
she caressed without notice
and ate them away
A heathen, they tell me
walking in bare feet, examining flesh
but I felt a spirit in my room last night
whispering in a child-like breathlessnes
and blue light made me breathe
Foods in dark taverns barreling into the street
little men--they kept their distance
and she walked the street
humming the moment she found locked in a jar
the ashes that smudged her
marred the gray stone that held me still
but still
clung to her forehead like the eyes
made of glass
and her flowers whirled about her
as if they forgot.
You're trapped on an island with nothing for entertainment except old Richard Simmons videos and a Barry White record. Trapped with you are an old, overweight woman and a sarcastic man who likes to play golf. What do you do?
Commit suicide.
Okay. You aren't very imaginative here. I'm trying desperately to avoid coma-state, and you aren't helping
Who's Barry White? I would make the fat lady dance to the Richard Simmons videos and have the sarcastic man heckle her while I try and figure out who Barry White is.
Barry White is a large black version of Tom Jones and Marvin Gaye. Well, not a black version of M. Gaye--he is balck, but you get the idea. I would take the guy's golf stuff, including the groovy clothes, and practice the game. Naked and bored, the man will walk around the island searching for his stuff and find the fat lady exercising. One thing will lead to another (he is a good lookking sarcastic man, and they are listening to Barry White) and there will be some fat sarcastic children. I'll use my nine-iron and shoot them over the rillly large water hazard and onto land. They will cry and look generally repulsive until someone will figure it out and come and save me.
Too complicated Too much time invloved. Strap the man and woman together and float to shore on them.
Yeah but he might make fun of her and then she'd cry and fill my make-shift raft, and we'd drown.
No, because you'll choke the fat lady with the record, and tie the man to a tree with video tape.
Now you're just being silly. How do you choke someone with a record?
I'm being silly?!? We're both being silly becuase we're bored out of our minds. You said she was fat. The record is force fed. I guess whe would have to be really fat or something.
Okay, so am I floating across the ocean on two corpses now? It isn't very sanitary, and it would smell pretty bad.
They won't be dead! Only dazed a little.
Okay, the match is almost over now. Look! My blow-pop is haped like Elvis...
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