sweetheart redux

I’m a nobody trying to make me a name I sit at my desk and read Mickey Spillane And when lunchtime comes my onlyest care Is an elevator ride where the strangers don’t stare They stare at my rotund, irrepressible tummy They want to say something to keep the ride chummy But I just want quiet, no diets, no small talk I want high art and low art, the hereafter and cock I’m an old bag a sick hag an ER repeater But also a woman who reaches into the ether I pull out a jacket, I pull out a doll, I bundle up my son and he sleeps, And that’s all. Guido Cagnacci  Allegoria della vita umana

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images from Mikey and Nicky (1976) by Elaine May Hey tenderfoot You are kaput Why don’t you sign on the dotted line? Why don’t you sign on a valentine? I have a hunch you laugh a bunch And then you cry when the party’s through Hey tenderfoot Do you think it’s cool That the night is always night And the day is always day?

I’m always mentioning on here how I try to make dead things from my past (dead people, friendships, places) come back to life by researching them online.  Well I spent hours trying to use Google maps to get an aerial view of a house of a friend of my mom’s that she doesn’t know anymore.  This man was a packrat, but if you have to be one, he was a pretty good one – his floors were littered with money and old paperback books of Peanuts cartoons, his favorite, and also weir things like that Snoopy Sno-Cone maker from the 1980’s that many of us my age may remember.  This packrat indoors was cool in its way but I’m way too used to packrat environs to be interested in all the half-buried treasure trash for long, but he lived in a pretty neighborhood, and his back yard was absolutely one of a kind.  Hidden in the overgrown grass was some of the most beautiful tilework I’ve ever seen.  I had a suspicion that some famous tile person must’ve made and laid these tiles him...