A Recollection of a Memory of Anna
She whispered along street corners
All abandoned in the rain
During the middle of noon time
She spoke in ears of coffee and cream
And the distance rose gardens
At the top of town
And mushrooms which grow there
She humored Reggie
Who walked with his zipper down
And Emma who sang
In Romanian at the steps
Of St. Murphy’s church
She tolerated Jim, tall Jim
Who fantasized about Becky
A pretty girl half his age
She taunted Ted who’d stay too late
And indulged in pinball
Or join the Sea Gypsies:
Emo and Xavier and Antonio
Who had no sea
Nor a real propensity to be gypsies
Anna touched Melissa who drew incessantly
Portraits of everyone and complained to herself
When the pretty Czech girls came
Anna called over signs directing streets
Called above the mossy fountains of the town
She echoed through
The trees to silent bridges over rivers
And dreamily demanding the beckoning
Of those late-comers and early birds
Who knew nothing of abandoned scarves
Knitted by Mexicans closely related to Aztecs
Across the breeze by the rail yard
Rachael sat on some train car
Drinking cold beer from a cold can on a cold night
“It’s better this way,” she said shivering
“In summer I’m molested by flies.”
And the rain falls
Blocks away Father Somebodyorother
Shoos Emma off the steps of St Murphy’s
The interstate hums like an ocean
Nearly silent in the night
The Sea Gypsies regroup
All four: Ted and Emo and Xavier and Antonio
They hear the call of a warm drink
A nice police officer tells Reggie:
“Put it away and zip up.”
Melissa counts the dollars in her pocket
Enough sketches for one day
She laughs at the vanishing Czech girls
Who had given up the money
For art that were all alike
Jim decides to leave his room, too lonely
And searches out Becky in the misty light of lamps
And to no avail
Becky is nowhere to be seen
And Anna opens up like a womb
For those who come
Nestled in her bosom
Mother, lover, maker of milk
The warmest, driest place in the night
.
Stink Eye Magazine 