Neville

Upon Recalling Youth and Poetry

Upon Recalling Youth and Poetry

 

In all probability

it was one

of two Helens,

that first

pointed me in

the very vague

direction

of the already

famous

Canadian Jew ..

And who, 

as it happened,

proved

both to be a

junkie and a poet ..

At that time,

I distinctly recall

how we

each huddled

around

an old gas stove ..

On what

must surely have

been a long

weekend, winter

evening ..

Listening to him,

first clear

his throat

of the nicotine

and the

thesaurus ..

Indeed, those

which both

seemed to be

lodged there

indefinitely ..

And in turn,

made his voice,

sound not

only coarse,

but also

correspondingly

sweet ..

Like Grandma’s

cold honey

oat cakes ..

What I try not

to remember

now though ..

Is just how many

times we

each failed to

notice time ..

And as always,

missed that

last bus home ..

But then,

the aftertaste

and the pull of it

began to

kick in and was

always too

good to resist

or leave behind us ..

And so

dear friend,

in truth ..

We would sleep

where

we could

and with whom ..

Because

back then

we were young ..

And would

dream only

of Janes and of

Mariannes,

Greek islands,

black olives,

goats cheeses

and honey ..

Oh’ and then

of course

Mastering yet

another,

handful of chords ..