Sexy East Coat Al Lewis (or, Ma’s Under the Iceaxes, I think…)
I / THAT WHICH IS LOST
Somewhere, I suspect
Under the antique
Russian flying helmets,
Or perhaps it’s behind the iceaxes,
Ma reposes.
She disappeared for nearly 24 years,
Her whereabouts mysterious,
Coyly calling up
At regular intervals to say
Isn’t it time, son,
To rehabilitate yer beloved
Spelunking, mine-exploring,
Sam Cisco based,
CCAC student of a mater,
Who came upon murderhood
Quite by accident,
The result of a V-J celebration
That went on until
Zero Wee Hours
In the foggy night?
She’d never stoop to
Resorting to such a
Run-on sentence as shamelessly herself,
Of course, being an art design
Standout from the artsy post-bohemian herd
At CCAC, across the Bay.
II / THAT WHICH IS LOST STILL LOST
I surmise that The circumstances of
Her ethereal disappearance
Had nothing at all
To do with
Sexy East Coast Al Lewis,
An old flame,
Who after all, didn’t even know her.
It was more probably the result of
Some unresolved
Edible Complex,
Or mebbe a bumpy camel ride
Her mother had taken in Egypt
Back when it was still safe to
Be a Mercan Gringo female
In Mohammedland.
Anyway, Ma stayed hidden
For 24 years
Until one morning
After staring at the line-up of
Departed furry children
Atop the bookcase
It dawned on me like a Pacific sunrise
That she probably
Deserved to be located,
Despite her having abandoned
Her only progenic chille
One hot Idaho summer day
When the roof of
That damned silver mine
Up near Ketchum
Collapsed on her, thus ending
A lifetime of esoterica and arcanica
And leaving
That pore bewildered orphink
Forever marooned in the airless vacuum of
Her absent murderly luv
To ponder why.
III / A MIRACULOUS RESURRECTION
Sure enough,
Sitting near the floor
On a shelf with old rubber oxygen masks,
Squeezing out from
Behind a rare titanium alloy
Russian iceaxe,
Ma suddenly appeared,
Though a mere ghost of her former seff.
Brushing off 24 years of
Accumulated dust and dog dander,
Without a word
Or a 4th dimensional glance
She took her place
Atop the shelf,
Near Sooka-dog and
A statue of Dr. I. Jones
Of Marshall College,
Who probably didn’t
Do half the things
Ma had
In her very real life of
Adventure. I think she would
Like the view from up there
And the protective comradeship
Of her adjacent woofy buddies
When it gets dark
And cold
At night.
Yup.
thought provoking read
holds reader interest
m