Girls on the Run: IX
And now everyone must sleep.
The kiddies are silent for awhile,
And yes, singly or in pairs,
they come down to the water’s edge, to drink their fill. The wide-eyed pansies gaze
immutably. Rev up the old flivver, we’ll be disparate
for a time
and then we’ll see, the mice will see. Why all the fuss?
You know you came here just for this, this kiss, on the face, the dog said.
Where are you starting to go? Are my pants too wide?
What if someone else on the other side of the globe
told you this, would he fall off? Would I?
That’s why they stay stand clear.
You can never do yourself favors enough, in the rosebush
from which man never disentangles himself. I see,
someone said. Does it matter about being alone? No it’s important
but not that important. I see, this person said. But then what if I am
no longer alone? What then? Two of you can board as long as one stays on the lookout
the relaxed policeman said. He brought a sandwich down the street
and placed it on the curb, he was so nice. We didn’t expect the birches
to explode just then. The sound traveled over the neighboring hills
down to the makeshift waterfront, lugubrious in the darkening air.
It’s the cold
again he said. Every time I forget something whenever anything is in motion
again, this happens, and I am not prepared for it. I’m plum scared.
Then you should go out,
your dress will be as morning to the cows,
she said. And he did and it was.
By and by Allen told us of a scheme
to rescue Pliable, if the latter consented, which surely he would,
and it would all seem as if it had never been.
But it would have, we’d know that, and ever after, as adults,
wandering the velvet streets, we’d come upon someone who would have known someone
who wasn’t all there and we’d be back at square one in the love market
and oceans of tremors would have been discovered. A word
would issue from a crack in the pavement, and it was up to Jane and the detective to decide
whether they’d heard it. If they hadn’t, fine.
Otherwise it’s down to the station
to sort everything out in the middle of the night, and not taken to too kindly
either. Drunks passed back and forth. Jane
was titillated but squeamish. She thought of asking Cupid
if the seams of her stockings were straight, but Pliable intervened strenuously,
arguing that no two people can take love into their own hands.
Oh. Excuse me. Bye bye. I’m
outta here. No, said Jane, you don’t
understand, he means to be nice. He’s a sheep, really. Yes but I don’t see
how that affects me, and anyway I’m not interested. Oh, please, you must be,
she agitated, just for a little while as we perch
on this twig that must be the end of the world for us. Jolly good,
Pliable thought, it’s me or you, now or never and here comes
I awoke from the dream. A big boom
was passing over my head. I could see clear up the mizzen, if that counts,
any more, your honor, I just want to say I respects
all what is good, and don’t come here any more, I won’t. That is good.
We’ll take off and be back pronto. Don’t
answer the telephone until dawn. Supposing they come and
want to ask you and we are gone, or in the middle of something? That’s OK but don’t
be gone too long. We’ll come too.
I’m no expert but I see a problem here.
The fisheries have come undone, as the headlong race to the pole
has made alarmingly evident. As I say, I can speak only for myself,
but as soon as I got here the rules became different.
They didn’t apply to me any more, or to anyone else except a distant runt,
almost invisible in its litter. So how was
I to know who to stand up to, when to turn abrasive, when all things nestled,
equidistant, all hearts were charming, and it was good to be natural and sincere?
True, we had much to worry about,
other things to think about, but when has mankind had the leisure
to extricate himself from these and other unassailable syllogisms?
So the truth just washed up on the shore,
a bundle of nerves, not resembling much of anything
we cared to remember. Was polite, stoical,
and anything else to deflect attention from its seething ambiguity.
It was time to come back, back into the flower-bedecked house.
A stunning moment of certainty survived
briefly, then it too was washed away in the rising flood,
tortured, unambitious.
School was over,
not just for that day but forever and for seasons to come.
The reason was that the truth was just average
on the iniquity scale, and nobody wanted to get involved.
