In a Sharp, Well-Tailored Suit

Posted on 19 April 2010

Near town a vast
cavern mouth in the
ground had emerged
and I found that it led
to a tavern beneath
Brooklyn where
a smooth ancient jazz
soothed my difficult
mind. It’s where
I first met Lady.
She gently took me
by the collar and
led me to Naples, its
streets like beautiful
stage doors, and to
Strasbourg for stollen,
then an afternoon by
warm coastal ruins
where we finally came
face to face. A brief
blindness and ginger
glare, then it was
over just as quickly. 
I returned the next
day dressed in my
Nehru-fashioned
wedding suit from
years past. But
getting back in was
impossible. The opening
had been filled with
topsoil. A man in
a wool vest stirred
some dust with his
work boot. His face
was like an old cork.
Can you see, Vandita, 
my strange substance?


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