THE GETTYSBURG BATTLE
I never miss a lecture at
our Historical Society.
A smart feller named Herb
showed slides and had a
red-dot pointed at all the
battle fields.
And then surprised us by
talking about the
commercialization of this
place where blood covered
the fields like rain
51,000 casualties,
a 17-mile long wagon train
of wounded bumping along
rough roads, howling with
pain
The battle, the ruination
of Robert E Lee, was fought
for three days, ending on
July 3, 1863
And then the visitors arrived,
many who fought there, with
their war-weary women, wearing
beautiful long dresses and
fancy hats
And then came, right upon this
sacred ground, hotels, gift shops,
railroad tracks to make it easy
for the tourists, and damn near
everything an entrepreneur
could think of.
I was there a few years ago. What
piques me is that in the gift shop
I never bought a Gettysburg Battle
T-shirt.
I can picture it now, but it wasn't
in my top drawer.
***
MY JACKO LANTERN
Eileen and I painted it
a lovely smiling face
with the bluest of eyes
and a lipstick mouth.
I dried it on the screened-in
back porch. Today is the day
I carried it upstairs, tottering
a little, my she was heavy,
and placed her on the front porch.
Now I am ready for Halloween.
My stew pot overflows with
candies to give out. As a kid
I would freeze some - Reese Bars in
the tiny fringed wrappers, Mounds
with coconut inside, and eat
on the floor while reading
The Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Soon it was off to the dentist.
Benjamin Bell. He drilled my
teeth for the cavities I always had,
no novocaine, so I paid a hard price
for my love of sweets.
***
PAPRIKA
The triumvirate of spices
were once salt, pepper,
and paprika.
Hungarians loved their
paprika. Pronounce it
however you please,
it's a flexible spice.
The color is that of a
redhead, perhaps Dorothy
basket in hand, following
the road toward the wizard.
Mom would sprinkle it
on the chicken thighs
along with salt and pepper
And in the gefilte kraut
or stuffed cabbage. Does
Ben and Irv's offer this
delicacy, delicious as a
Dobos Torte.
No matter. I have made my
thighs, two for dinner and
three for the Irishman
with his hearty palate
and his way with words.
***
ANIMAL CRACKERS
Snacks are an important part
of our writers' group.
I brought Triscuit crackers
in case I didn't like anyone
else's snack.
Bob brought Club Crackers
made by Keebler. I ate two - sweet,
buttery, almost like a cookie.
Stopping at two was hard
but I didn't wanna puff up
and put more weight on.
Ken brought Animal Crackers.
Good, I told him, I don't like
Animal Crackers. Too blah,
too bland.
They don't have much sugar,
he sighed, sitting in his
tall chair near the couch.
I nodded. Our group is
like a party. A dozen of us
sitting around. What what do you
do at parties?
You eat.
As Rem read the next chapter
in his Randy series, I stood
up and opened a red bag of
Animal Crackers, piercing it
with my pen.
I pulled out a big mother,
looked at it and popped it
in my mouth. What a surprise!
It was fresh, certainly, but
hard as an oyster cracker.
I began to chew to the rhythm
of Rem's enchanted words.
Soon I was liking the damn thing,
each and every zoological species
the Noah of the Animal Crackers
had put in the box.
I wiped my lips with my hankie
and said, Damn good, Ken!!!
***
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