Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Lunch at Maggio's / Poem: Ode to Wesley

Did you see Barbra Streisand, 68, and Robert Redford,73,on Oprah? Streisand said that when she used to perform she would see people in the expensive seats and if it seemed like they weren't paying attention she would get very upset and that's why she stopped performing.

Ada's Outing went to see Cairnwood, the multi-floored home of John and Gertrude Pitcairn and their 9 children. Gertrude died young of appendicitis. Whew! Hopefully she didn't die from sciatica. She took a long time deciding whether or not to marry John b/c in the Swedenborgian religion, marriage continues into eternity so you certainly don't wanna make a mistake.

I didn't learn this from the tour b/c I stayed home, but Rich picked me up so I could meet everyone at Maggio's for lunch. As usual, the food wasn't very good. But it was nice to get out of the house and watch the view from the backseat where I was writhing in pain.

Mon dieu! Be sure to check my daughter Sarah's blog post of today. She mentions dear ole mum. Plus the perfect gift for Xmas.

While I was holding on with Comcast, Rodney from Grenada was fixing my bill w/an overcharge of $200, I told him that my friends and I are having a bonfire on Saturday nite. I asked him what he and his friends do for fun on Granada.

He did not say, Try not to get attacked again by the US as happened in 1983.



For just a moment
I thought Wesley had returned.

I left all truth behind.
I could not help it.
I needed to escape.
Escape from this world where
Black clouds over China
Portend a quicker death of cities
Than ever we thought.

Oh Wesley.

So I let myself go.
I stared at the little white dog
So like Wesley
My old companion who sat at
The window and watched me
Pull in the drive.

His ashes sit atop the dining room shelf
They do not bark or wag
Companion of my
Three times removed old age.

You see, I took a leap.
I'd had too much of the world.
I could not bear the disappointments.

So when she walked the white dog
Across the street, dead autumn leaves
Parting at their approach
I waited at the front door
For her to bring Wesley home.


Wesley was never mine.
He was theirs.
The Kiernans across the street.
I appropriate things.
I make them mine:
The garbage truck
The postman
The far-off locomotive
The entire sky
For Wesley.

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