[Date Prev][Date Next][Thread Prev][Thread Next][Date Index][Thread Index]

inhibitiion of tongues & chairs

   I think I laughed in delight, as soon as we walked
into Kaldi's.  the sun was pouring in all the windows
over so many dusty volumes
       hardcovers, wrapped around leaves and pages of
words--marching upon shelves and shelves.
hardwood floors and high ceilings.
 
    the gentlemen smirkingly suggested a table near
the
pulp fiction--pop art covers depicting large eyed,
large breasted women, gasping in horror at something
or another.

they glowered smartly at the rigid spines
 of the literature section on the opposing wall.
 
  I was on my knees before them, running my fingers
over the names I've been studying my past two years of
higher learning. 
   the server stood waiting over my shoulder and I
sheepishly erected myself, stumbled into the table and
attempted to be decisive and order.
 
 toast, jay, and me scanned the lovely menu, offerered
 our intentions and the waiter dutifully went off to
 fulfill our commands. 
         one of those lovely aspects of being a
consumer.  the joy of it being:  you offer money, the
world gives you what you theoretically want...
 
 (sheepish smirk)
 
I announced to the fellows that I would most certainly
 move there, live there, and spend my days grovelling
 over the books and tripping over the chairs. 
     abandon college.
     abandon work.
  just live in a coffee shop, content to decorate with
my bohemian presence.
 
 (the smirk widens)
 
 it was so lovely--jay and toast's company for
breakfast.  I need more breakfast dates.  we were
looking over my sketchbook and I was explaining my
life through the scribbles and thought notations
when Mr. beatnik waiter presented each of us with a
towering plate of food.
 
 I am rather fond of food.
 did I mention I like food?
 almost as much as I like books 
 and coffee
 and sharp coloured pencils
 and listies...
 
 but food is a nice thing.
 
   and they made it so purdy!  I love it when lettuce,
tomatoes and other necessities to a sandwhich are
splayed on the plate like artwork.  I was destroying
this fine masterpiece with crumbs tumbling onto my
lap when in walked a slow, quiet figure with shaggy
dark hair.
 
 hmm.
just when your mouth is stuffed full of breakfast,  
     your hero arrives.
 
 "may I join you?"  he asks, indicating to the fourth
 chair.  I toss my sketchpad from the seat to the
 floor and nod and murmer.
 
 (huge grin)
 
 you guys shoulda been there.  I'm mighty glad you
 weren't.
 
 it's funny how his face is getting familiar.  that
 sharp jaw, slightly protruding.  pensive eyes. 
 stubble.  peculiar goatee.  today's attire:  brown
 shirt, dark vest, vintage tuxedo jacket.
 
 (ah, the joys of impeccably dressed poets!)
 
 I could see a disapointment in his eyes at your
 absence, and I was shy and eager to hear his
 thoughts.
  I wanted to know what he reads.  I wanted to know
 what he would do on a hot sunny day.  I wanted to
 know if he stayed up late, jotting stuff from caffine
 fixations that later proved ridiculous theoretical
 genious.
 
 I wanted him to be real.
 
 but I was shy and couldn't think a word to make
 Linford more human to me.
 
 a delight was when he picked up the O'Connor novel
 I'd been fingering and wondered whose it was.  we
 murmered a bit of Ms. Flannery's life and work before
 trailing into subjects of the concert last night, the
 boldness of listies, the wonders of it all.
 
 he said Brian would be returning, with a slight
 smile and a comment that the separation was hardly
 complete.
 
 he said "goodbye" would be on the next album.
 
 and oh, this is so wonderful.  more news about otr
 and the work of otr and I still wonder at the
workings
 of a man who I feel kindred in words.
 
 Karin joined us.  we all insisted she rearrange the
table so the five of us settled nicely. 
(her face lights up at any mention of doggies).
 (her face lit up when she talked of her musician
friend, katie, who was also present at kaldi's.)

they seemed perplexed and surprised at my hours in the
moving world of greyhound (twelve).  
they both seemed disapointed at the presence of three.

they so much wanted more of you guys there.  
 
 and I wanted to tell them so much.  how their words
 were written all over desktops, palms, notebooks
 because they made the everyday make magical
 coherance.
  I wanted them to know I had danced, passionate, in
 crowded living rooms and basements because their
 music
 always moves me.  I wanted them to know I sang with
 them, unabandoned and was so happy to feel that
 release.  I wanted them to know they'd added so much
 joy.  I wanted them to know it was an utter delight
 to
 watch them do what they loved, and make currency for
 it.  i wanted them to know they made a difference to
 me so often.
 
 of course, I said none of these things, not really.
 of course, I can scarcely remember what was said.
 of course, I tripped over words and chairs in my 
     efforts to convey.
 
 I only hope they read it in my smile, in my eyes.
 
 
 Mr. Linford and Ms. Karin:  it was a delight.  I
 thank
 you for your time.
 
 lynzi renee'.
 

_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
Follow-Ups: