Are you warm, are you रियल, Margot? Margot?

.
To a Woman Looking For Margot
in My Yahoo Junk-Mailbox

O! M was a beauteous dream
melodioso to hum and to shadow
through brambles and such.

A cloud swimming through the goddamn cosmos,
asphalt in a fog, a locomotive in May.



I knew her/ only in spirit. (She loved
her spirits).

And M, O! M. What mystery, what spirit,
what joie. What schwa!

No mail box could hold her.

The tenor of her voice was poignant
as pryamids crumbling in sweet Egyptian sunlight
and sharp, sharp stars.

Brrrrrrrr.
The moon would be her province.
And I shall not/ trouble you
with mine.

I hope you find your Margot.

I hum, I hope.

No mail box
could ever ever hold her.



--mge/au
.

 
 
 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

थे से आईटी'स यौर Birthday

Lydia at my last week Dual-Birthday-Party (Me & Eli)



They Say It’s Your Birthday

So I’m luggin’ stuff home from the Laundromat-- kind of hot & sticky-- but
I’m feelin’ good 'cos I just got my laundry done. Small accomplishment,
but what the hey, I’m heading South, enjoying some nice moon and some just-post-twilight clouds over the Susquehanna. Cumuli.

A girl is walking toward me, don’t know her-- I say “hey” & she says “Happy Birthday.” and me, not knowing what to say (my birthday was just last week), say a mumbly,“Oh, hey!”

Which means approximately “Thanks, I think...” in Second Street talk. We’re getting farther apart-- she’s going North-- and now she says, with some urgency, “Say it, say Happy Birthday,” so I say “Happy Birthday! Today?” And she says “August 16!”

Yep, that‘s all she wrote. Nice moment. I mean, people shouldn’t ignore each other on the streets. Y'know? And she keeps North. Me? South, go home, dump my transfigured clothes, fire up my Toshiba & seize the riff-moment. Pocketa-pocketa: here ya go, this is what blogs are made for.

And, P.S.
Let’s note Carly’s birthday, yesterday, in Louisville.
Happy Birthday Carly!


Carly & Carrot Top, in happier times












--mge