Friday, January 21, 2011

Do you like cats?
Do you have siblings?
Your father died, I believe.
He had a cabin on a lake.
I was at your wedding. You were very tall.
Maybe that's the first time I met you
But I don't recall.
I remember a wedding in a suburban hotel
We spent the night
It was a very big expensive affair
I remember my uncle, presiding.
I was hidden in the corners somewhere.
Was I married already?
There was a video camera, roving gathering of
testimonials. So maybe that's something that can be looked up.
Trouble is, I went to two such weddings
very similar, of two sisters
weddings separated by not many years
and with the same sort of fanfare.
So it's hard to be sure which wedding I remember.
But I do think I remember seeing you
Maybe that's when I met you

Let's see - what else? A game of trivial pursuit
And your muttering of "taxachusetts" that set you back
in my book a few squares for years
not that I had much to go on
or ever viewed you in that way

You stopped by with family
one day a couple of summers ago
all very sudden, on the fly, and afterward
it had felt like a home invasion to me
all photographed with cellphones
to report back - to whom?
But until I went sour - way after - on that afternoon
I actually had a great time
I had cleaned the house, presciently
the day before
And had pizza dough ready, rising
And flowers about the house
So it turned into an instant party
We were dancing around in the kitchen
I offered you local camembert
You seemed to really like it

You seemed to like the bedroom,
remnants from a high-end shop
that I was starting to piece together
I love the way the bedroom's turned out
five, six, seven different patterns going on at once
yet the colors all go, and the patterns meld
I had a nice time that day, and a nice impression of you

I've been struck unexpectedly with an arrow - confirmed
when I saw you again
I felt a little sheepish stepping into your arms
in the dining room
since I'd written all that ribald stuff for -
I didn't know it was you
though I couldn't rule you out.
I'm hit now with an arrow
and maybe you too - or not - who knows really
I've been there before - concurrently
and it's all tangled
but who knows what will happen?
to me things feel fluid
neither of us would have chosen this scenario
or even imagined it

and yet life transpires as usual
perhaps you're hurtling over the ocean

I've dredged cod in milk and flour
to fry for dinner, with lemon rice and broccoli
I walked at the conservation area
knocked myself out trudging through foot-deep snow
cats snooze all around me
radio's off so I can think
a jet plane engine whooshes overhead just now
my fingers tap on the keys
I imagine you sitting on a jet
bent over a book, or a magazine
in the little overhead cabin light
heading home

you stood against the fridge
and I offered you my favorite
local camembert pressed on warmed baguette
you tasted - and I looked at you, thrilled
to see your eyes widen in sudden pleasure
I said - fantastic, right?
you nodded
and I, delighted, danced away

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