I continue my review of my library -- finding homes for material I've had for decades. & in the process I'm finding hidden treasures.
in my copy of levy's Suburban Monastery Death Poem (Zero Editions: 1968) I found I'd scribbled a poem. it's dated 24 sept 68 which is interesting since levy dates his poem as aug 68.
here it is:
Garbo is asleep on my lap --
she begins to twitch all over &
I wonder if she's having nightmares
& if I shd wake her
but I don't & then twitching stops.
_____________________
there are so many times, d.a. levy,
when I want to say something
about love but end up
not even looking into eyes:
I am a creature of self
trying to reach out
but always finding
my own arms waiting for me
part of me cringes reading this after so many years. but then as I age I know one needs to put such things in context. so for me it becomes sort of an historical document. & I see now that it's not simpy an immediate response to reading levy's long poem but also a precursor of my trio of verse journals. I see a 25 year-old with a cat in his lap a mimeographd chapbook in one hand & a pencil in the other dashing off the first thing that comes into his head. it's lovely to know that cat who had such a short life in a way now has a long one. I'll avoid analyzing the obvious. & ask yr indulgence in even posting this.
in my copy of levy's Suburban Monastery Death Poem (Zero Editions: 1968) I found I'd scribbled a poem. it's dated 24 sept 68 which is interesting since levy dates his poem as aug 68.
here it is:
Garbo is asleep on my lap --
she begins to twitch all over &
I wonder if she's having nightmares
& if I shd wake her
but I don't & then twitching stops.
_____________________
there are so many times, d.a. levy,
when I want to say something
about love but end up
not even looking into eyes:
I am a creature of self
trying to reach out
but always finding
my own arms waiting for me
part of me cringes reading this after so many years. but then as I age I know one needs to put such things in context. so for me it becomes sort of an historical document. & I see now that it's not simpy an immediate response to reading levy's long poem but also a precursor of my trio of verse journals. I see a 25 year-old with a cat in his lap a mimeographd chapbook in one hand & a pencil in the other dashing off the first thing that comes into his head. it's lovely to know that cat who had such a short life in a way now has a long one. I'll avoid analyzing the obvious. & ask yr indulgence in even posting this.
No comments:
Post a Comment