Squibs 446-452 [by Alan Ziegler]

 

446: Cabondating: Determining when a movie or TV show was recorded by the fare on the taxi door.

 

447: Some places my poems visited in the 70s and 80s: Ironwood, Mulberry, Granite, Syncline, Stepping Stone.

 

448: Erin is playing Molly Bloom in Ulysses adapted for dance and music. She tells me there’s physicality between Molly and Blazes but nothing I’ll find upsetting. She comes home excited after the dress rehearsal: “The New York Times was there.” A picture runs with the review: Erin is on her knees in bed with Blazes, wearing a negligee riding up her thigh, as is Blazes’ hand. The critic calls her “luscious and devilish,” and adds, “The two lie so alone together in bed with Molly’s sensuous cry of readiness echoing in the audience’s ears.” I snap. “You didn't tell me it would be like this!” What really haunts me is what might have happened during, or after, all those rehearsals. I rip the page out of the newspaper and throw it limply in her direction. As I slam the door on my way out to nowhere, I hear her stricken plea, “What did I do wrong?” I steel myself to be professional when I go to the performance. I'm accompanied by our friend Helen, a dance teacher who has performed in, directed, and attended hundreds of productions. I sit tensely as, offstage, Molly emits her “sensuous cry of readiness.” I fight to keep my eyes open when Molly and Blazes slide under the covers. During the curtain call I turn to Helen for vindication. She laughs and says, “Oh, that’s nothing.”

 

449: Some places my poems visited in the 70s and 80s: Star Web Paper, Skywriting, Sun, Penumbra.

 

450: We gave it plenty of time but didn’t put enough leaves in the pot so now we are weak and bitter.

 

451: I dream my mother is alive, reading a romance novel in her living room chair after doing the dishes. I tell her she is dead, and she reminds me I have to learn how to relax.I dream my father is dead, and I try to convince him he is alive sitting at the kitchen table watching the tiny television because he no longer watches the big TV in the living room unless other people are with him. But he is stubborn as usual, and tells me I am wrong. Awake, I imagine they pass each other along the hallway and exchange ditto marks with their fingers, but I have not been able to dream this.

 

452: Some places my poems visited in the 70s and 80s: Pequod, Kayak, Small Pond, Ark River, Three Rivers.

Comments

[David Lehman]

Welcome back! What was Pequod like? And Penumbra?

[Alan Ziegler]

Pequod was Mark Rudman's magazine; as I recall, none of my poems made the voyage. Penumbra was edited by Charles Haseloff; I had a poem in the Life After Death issue.

[David Lehman]

You're right: and the names bring me back. Mark Rudman! Charles Haseloff! In asking my question I was being stupidly literal, thinking you had gotten up close and personal with Captain Ahab . . .and danced by the light of the moon. Cheers, buddy.