poem: sugar vibrates
[Poem prompted by the Ducornet of La Coste. Her prompting photo here.]slug nursery
corner of fifth & vine
the natural nasties
vigorous absolution
his dark materials
gauging the weather
vain, simple sugar
vibrates the moon
douses the lights
ambulates the most
lame, fisheries all
casting the rest in filigree
most fine
step into this
feel the vagaries
whisper the last
time you just
might
have:
Barcelona
1978
the whispers down the hall
most sluggish
most divine
most missing
the passage home.
[Accompanying soundtrack:]
Labels: sounds like whispered margarita
posted by murat11 at 10:52 AM
8 Comments:
there is something so appealing to me, about that aqua window in the upper left, as though the person living there refused to be defined by what looks like a rather poor apartment. An artist's soul lives behind that one! Even the sun finds that one.
Slug nursery? Very unpleasant image in my mind from that one - a natural nastie at least! Sugar filigree would always be fine - makes me think of one of those confections in a fancy bakery with the little silver baubles (I know they have a name and it escapes me right now)
I love the whispers, whisper is one of those words that sounds like what it is and to make it sluggish, divine, missing and a passage home just guides the reader back out the door they came in through, quietly and barely there at all.
Dee: Maybe it even guides you back to your home behind those top balcony windows. Collision today of Stones and Barcelona (the barrio balconies full of laundry were beautiful passing through in 1978; Malaga, Spain was where I first heard "Miss You") and friend Rachel's slug photo. Tasty brew for poem-ing and visits.
"Most missing/the passage home"? Did you run out of money in Malaga, Spain in 1978?? I couldn't see the facebook picture because I have deactivated my account. I like this poem. I like the spun filigree moonlight and the sugar shaking and the slugs crawling langorously in the nursery. The picture is nice, too. It brings back memories... And Mick Jagger almost young. Wow!
Teresa: No, we were plenty flush with cash in Malaga. You know how the Muravian lines go: there are always several unrecorded tesserine lines in between. Skips and bumps: never linear. That passage home is the one that runs under the Big River.
Aah. Of course, and now you're truly home. I was in Malaga in 1977. First time I ever tried to swim in water polluted with sewage. I got out really fast... That blue expanse of Mediterranean was great until I got too close. A veritable slug garden hiding inside the postcard-perfect vista. I guess Earth Day hadn't taken with the Spanish back then.
T: So, we just missed each other in Malaga by a year. Truth be told, I don't remember the water that well, but I was awfully smitten with a restaurant that served an awesome arroz con pollo.
Well, I was there with the 'rents. They came with my baby bro and picked me up from my host family at the end of my semester of being an exchange student in Germany. We borrowed my host mother's car to drive around Germany, Austria, and Switzerland before returning the car and flying to Spain. We rented a car and drove around Spain for 10 days. We only spent a day and a night in Malaga. We were mainly staying at Paradors where you got dinner, bed, and breakfast for a low pre-paid rate. I think we had paella in Malaga. The Parador in Avila had two options on the menu: roast goat or rabbit stew. My poor brother lost 10 pounds on the trip because he had issues with the food. When we got back to Madrid, my dad went out searching the streets in the area around the hotels for Americans trying to find a restaurant that sold hamburgers. When he came back 1 1/2 hours later with a burger, it turned out to have been cooked in olive oil. That really made my brother sick. We put it on the window sill of our hotel room, and not even the pigeons would eat it. I remember eating arroz con pollo, too, but I don't remember where we were. Those were good times, though. Unfortunately, I was only 16... I had my 16th birthday in Germany. That was fun, too. My host family's tradition was to eat crepes for dinner on a birthday and have a big fresh fruit salad. A lot more healthful than cake and ice cream.
Teresa: Ah, food. On the '78 tour, I think we got all the way to Athens before we felt the overwhelming need for "American" food. Found a breakfast joint with all the fixin's. That pretty much took care of the food jones; we went native again from there on out.
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