Kit Kelen #1389 - one of the magical meetings that can never occur

1389

one of the magical meetings that can never occur

it’s walk through the door of the century

of course to the planet’s other side

(much later and long before

my brother and I will dig for China

I’ll swim to America – all much the same)

point is you couldn’t intend a thing like this

but here we are

thick of the nonsense

kids love that

my father is seven years old

and I’m sixty – that’s his 1972

so unfathomably far away

‘see, how it’s all done with numbers’

not my strong point

but impressive to say

in any case it can’t be explained

war over, Trianon – work in progress

papa retired from the commandant’s uniform

world of wonders –eyes wide with

machines in the air, someone said

first car came

ping pong still being invented (reinvented as it turns out)

but here we are in the bush

2019 – very Jules Verne, very H.G. Wells

a little bird

‘see the blue? a wren

this one wants to get in

because of the mirror she sees

and can’t think past that

or learn, the way we would’

evidence and theory are later

echoes are in echoes too

we only meet here in the dream

magic our communication

my having no Hungarian

(but I won’t blame him now)

‘I know they arrested mummy

for what she wouldn’t teach’

I show him my ancient Underwood

(yet to be built I suspect)

a long time since…

‘is it something like this you carried to school?

no, not yet, that will be when you’re ten

I don’t say it out loud

ten

gave me my first watch too

and I’ll take it apart

to learn what not to do

I show him the scrapbook

and the ping pong table in the garden

say these will be important later on

when?

why are we?

who are you?

such things never matter in dreams

who knows what languages he knew

but seven is a long way to ten

I show him things he showed me

to keep the circle tight

this camera in the leather case

the light meter

flash powder

no one knows now

show him round the garden

he asks everything

and some of it I know

of course one’s tempted to say

‘much later, you will be my dad’

but you can’t do that to kids

I won’t say

‘this will be your country

you will have a wife, my mother

more than fifty years to love

but first a war’

no, I’m not Nostradamus

why betray a trust?

I too will not mention

what happened to father

empires all betray us

do we have some dobos?

I mean torta

(but there’s one to beat too)

I know a place in Sydney…

‘didn’t I say I couldn’t explain it?’

what kind of a place is this

and how

and how and why?

books! let me distract you please

even a few in Magyar

dusty, falling apart

encyclopaedia and the cook book long lost

still ten years in your world till print

and that’s Brecht

one of the good Germans

and so many are

you’ll love him

Beethoven too

I wouldn’t say a thing about ghosts or last breaths  

time when you’re seven is an endless burden

heaven is lovely then

so angel filled

and Jesus is loving

and Christmas

you’re just beginning to know

of course there are questions I can’t answer

‘didn’t I say that I didn’t know’

look at that bowerbird

swooping so low

the channelbills in the mulberry

the kookaburra for laughs

each next bird stranger than the last  

and a wallaby

novel propulsion!

can you believe such a thing?

like it’s hopped right out of the book

yes this sun is harsh

but it’s worth it

I know that you’ll think so

I’ll say

‘this is what we call a moment

it’s nice to stand out of time like this

like a nice long bath or when you’re with music

later, still this century, when you’re my age

there’ll be the strawberry candles

and it will be Rachmaninoff

one of the good Russians

and so many are

later, you’ll nap in this chair right here

I could show you your last cigar

unsmoked

still wrapped in what we’ll call plastic

a king no longer on the throne

the emperor is over too

and why do I keep that?

top of the head

the blessing kiss

won’t say where I learned it though

just a few words are left

I creak a little but it’s nothing  

no one ever shot at me

except that moron with the airgun once on the way to school

we only meet here in the dream

your dream now and mine

funny it falls to me to explain

the child is father to the man

teach well

it was my life

‘Pistika

now here we are together frozen

see how no cloud moves in this sky?

let’s take that for a proof’

and ‘next time next time

your side of the world –  

show me the rain stopped

just outside the Gellert Baths

under that hill was once ours’… in legend

a fool like me believed it all

won’t we live for a lovely lie?

there’s so much more I mustn’t say

knowing the miracle is sacred

why? ‘because they are’

‘maybe we’ll drive down to Balaton

in one of these new carriages

I’ve never seen it

or with papa’s horses

the ones you love best

we’ll trot down

times will be good again

I won’t say ‘never in your life did I suspect’

won’t say

but you’ll see in my eyes

that you are destined to survive

and you’ll make your own way