Friday, June 24, 2011

QUEENS CENTER MAUL

             I was a teen of the 70’s.  I grew up with a love/hate relationship with the Queens Center Mall.  It’s ‘cuz I was a “PARK GIRL”.   I loved the outdoors and the woods and the wild wooliness of it all. 

Queens Center Mall?  I found it confining, almost sterile – the air, stagnant and continuously, vomitously re-circulated.

But I was also a class-cutter.  And sometimes the wintry weather dictated my days’ cutting destination and more often than not me and my teen-girl-posse ended up at the Queens Center Mall. 

No money.  Security guards everywhere – especially on the roof  parking lot where we’d go to smoke these ever-present pin-joints where we’d be wasted in like 3 seconds and then these imposing, black SECURITY DUDES would appear.  Escorting us somewhat lasciviously into the mall elevator.  Nothing bad ever happened.  I think a couple of times we were able to bribe them with our residual weed and they just took the dope and let us go.  They were as bored as we were, looking for a way to pass the day.

So but then sometimes we had some money.   Not much.  We’d go to the food court and share knishes and giant chocolate chip cookies and drink water from the water fountain.  And laugh.  A lot.

So here’s a good one.  One day, me and Disco Rosa, Lee and Camille cut out and go to the mall.  We kind of actually have a mission, because there’s a St. Pancras Dance coming up and I need to get a new shirt.  So that’s the mission, and we’re walking around in the J.C. Penny or whatever that department store on the first floor use to be.  Macy’s?  Sears?  I really don’t remember – one of them - but anyhow…

We’re perusing up and down these tight little aisles, and some dude approaches us.  He looks like a country bumpkin.  Maybe in his late 20’s.  (we’re about 15).  And he approaches Disco Rosa and Lee.  I remember looking over and thinking: “What the hell does this guy want?”

And I see them all negotiating or some shit, and then Disco Rosa trots over to me and Camille and says: “Hey, this guy is filming like a Candid Camera kinda show, and he needs us to walk on his back.”

Me:  “What?”

Disco Rosa: “We just have to walk on his back for like a minute, and he’ll give us $30.00 a piece.”

Camille: “Really?  Ok – let’s do it!’

Me: “Yeah, let’s go!”

So the dude lays down right in the middle of one of the narrow clothing aisles, and we all start walking on him.  And I’m the first one who hears it:

“UUUUUUhhhhhhaarrrrrGGGGGGGGaaaaaayyyyHHHHHH”

Dude is definitely getting off.  I jump offa him.  Yell: “Ugh!  He’s just a nut!   And we ain’t even gonna get paid!”  (gotta love that last observation)

The other girls are kinda discombobulated, but Disco Rosa is quick on the uptake and she immediately starts kicking the guy in the head while he’s still laying on the floor, she’s yellin:

“Yeah?  Yeah?  You like this??  This is FUN for you???”

Fuckin Disco Rosa – amazing.

Anyhow, the dude jumps up and runs away.  And then I ended up finding a nice amber-colored shirt, very flattering, for the dance.

And that’s my biggest memory of the Queens Center Mall.

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Wednesday, June 15, 2011

STARE POEM

You know how it is.  Sometimes you just write a damn poem.

Thinking about all things beautiful and transient this evening, I decided to flip thru the invaluable MOLESKINE Notebook that I take along with me to the cabin on the weekends.   I call this notebook my “Cabin Word Processor”. 

And I came across the following poem that I wrote during the week of me and Chris'   12th wedding anniversary, which was almost exactly one month ago today. 

All I can say is, it musta been one of those nites.

And so here it is:

STARE POEM

(A/K/A:  An Anniversary Poem)

Sick of it all
Sick of it all –
Stare at the nails
Stuck in the wall…

Stare at the brick
Stare at the pipe
Stare at the fire
Into the night.

Staring at You
Staring at Me
We stare at the Dogs
As They stare at a Tree.

Stare at the stars
Stare at the Moon
Stare at the walls
Lining our room…

Stare at the stairs (!!!)
That lead to our door
Stare at the rug
That lays on our floor…

And our pain and our Love
And our Joy and our tears…

Not so sick of it all…
After all,
My
Dear.

* * * * * *
L.A.W.  5-14-2011

Friday, June 10, 2011

A WEIRD POEM

So a little over a month ago, Herman
Goes and (seemingly) sprains his leg.
Front-left ankle joint. 
All swollen. 
The vet puts him on an anti-inflammatory
  and joint antibiotics. 

Two weeks later, not much better.
X-rays. 
Looks like either a bone infection or bone cancer.  
Osteomyelitis or Osteosarcoma – take yer pick
But hope for the first one. 
And either way, this is will be
Not fun.   

He will be 5 on July 4th.
He’s so beautiful and full of energy.  
I spend my spare moments holding his lame
Foot while he sleeps, stroking it. 
It’s so beautiful, this foot.
I’ve never seen such a pretty foot…
Much less held one.

Ellie’s Herm’s big sister
Even tho’ she’s little. 
Not her heart, tho’.  Ellie has
The heart
  of a Lion. 
She’ll be 12 in August.

She Will Be 12 in August.

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