Jay to Bee. Janet Frame
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and black cap standing larger than life like a monument against the clear blue sky, as if I had been a child gazing upward; Elnora like a figure from a painting in her bright strong colours and dark face; the scarf-stripes gashing downwards; Jo with a kind of pearl-coloured vivacity; I, squirrel-bulky in my coat, clutching my sweater as a child away from home clutches its favourite toy; the smiling man with the brief-case; the city benevolent because we were there. And all day was a journey with the four of us performing some kind of ritual dance, person to person to person to person, a long long journey to say au revoir; it would have been impossible to say goodbye.
I have never known such a mysterious sad strange day. It was like waiting to be executed, with the execution taking place in a scene from a painting. The lounge. The sailors sprawled asleep in the chairs. The tight-lipped woman guarding the messages and keys in their brown boxes—the striped shadows the striped scarf the striped sailors. And then, after the time in the Museum, all the paintings that had accompanied us, the image of them in our minds, their after-image projected mysteriously in the lounge of the Y.W.C.A. Boston.
Well, it was a dream. Was it a dream?
In lighter vein I have uncovered from the secret manuscripts of Emily Dickinson a letter from a blue jay to a bee which reads as follows:
B you are gone away!
even au revoir only
was hard to say.
We are lonely.
Jo’s in New York this week.
We’re settled and at work—
the others are mostly back—
your sweater’s warm and thick.
You’ll get my letter, say,
Friday. Reply straightaway
or better, be with me—
Yours, blue J.
I don’t want to embarrass you with these notes; I don’t mean to.
J
3. MacDowell November 22
Dear Bill,
I’m relieved to know you’re alive and well and living in California.
I (and we) were beginning to think you were dead and to mournyia.
(and from there, with a swift turn of a phrase she steered into a limerick)
The pecker of Harrison Kinney
was so excessively skinny
that like a Greek statue
his balls stared back at you
a. (classical) Let’s unGreek our leak, go Roman with Pliny.
b. (classical) as if you were Pallas Athene.
c. (pseudo-contem porary) Like matics without their cine.
d. (vulgar) ‘twas a miracle he had had any.
e. ( ’ ) so teeny so meeny so mini.
f. (novelistic) How mean is the thorn in our spinney!
g. (low) If you were a horse you’d whinny.
h. (anthropomorphic) with little eyes, nosy, and chinny.
How about that?
Now you are back on the city scene you might be interested in the model P[eedauntal] which carries with it a special testimonial from Al Bean, Moon-Man whose wife uses it. It is our Supermarket P designed for those who must spend time shopping in one supermarket without being able to get past the barrier. It’s an audio model. The user can select Snap-Crackle-Pop of breakfast food for Environmental Harmony; Mood Music for unexpected social encounters; and many other sounds which have to be heard to be believed. And remember, it carries a testimonial from Al Bean.
It is no mean accomplishment to serve those who now, their minds at peace, need never urinate in the Magic Flute, nor in the Frozen Foods.
There once was a fellow named Lionel
whose pecker was made of vynil
while trying to warm it
he did swiftly unform it
it melted—in fact—that was final.
Who finds himself beholden
to satisfy poor Eunice Golden
must measure his tool
with a thirty foot rule
The astronaut, Al Bean
said space is a lousy scene
once my orbit of fame
was from coming to came
but now I’m just Al has-been.
Completion of the last line wins a fabulous tour of the Eastern United States. Visit the MacDowell Colony. Play anagrams and other games with the famous
Elnora the Morer
Jo the pro
Janet the never-ban-it.
Mingle with the MacDowell Elite! Journey inside the Biological Time Bomb! Experience James Thurber! Play Losing Sweaters with Simon! Pedal uphill with Jill!
The range of experience is unparalleled. Spend one free morning in Mrs Crocket’s pocket!
One evening in the Specially cooled Jaffrey cinema!
Taste Rose Hips, diluted or concentrated.
This brochure cannot describe the numerous attractions of the fabulous Eastern Seabored.
Take a trip to Baltimore, half a mile to a mile from the Maryland State Prison and the Baltimore Jail. Walk down East Madison Street to the broken-down Laundrette and the writing on the wall
City to city
state to state
boys this girl
don’t need no date.
And more! Get your teargas gun in Johns Bargain Store, the Monumental Five and Ten Cent. Return to the lonely house. Play Schubert on the unplayed Steinway!
Switch on the radiator
human beings must be kept warm.
Open the window on the attainable and the unattainable heaven
Schubert is home.
In Schubert despair sits yearning on a bed of roses
a child full of warm dreams and wishes
lies asleep on the rain-rotted boards of a prepared grave.
Play a Schubert Impromptu for me.