Saturday, December 24, 2016

Dissonance, Poetry and Time - Day 23 - Sara Dowse

If I had stayed in America
would I have ended up in Berkeley,
in North Beach, or Haight-Ashbury?
Where would I draw the line?
Would I have been attracted or repelled?
How would the sex have been?

A man who is now no more
than a shadow, and was even then -
shaven head, jacket grey and gabardine,
looking like the war we had emerged from
too serious, so hip I found him square.
I had tamped down those terrors,
my lips were smeared with pixie pink.
I hadn’t abandoned my saddle shoes
and jazz was so hip it was square.
We danced to R&B then, Hunter Hancock, 
East LA, and when Rexroth came to town
I thought it pretty pretentious, 
the poetry hitched to jazz, I mean,
and my crew cut Virgil was surprised.
He must have known me better than I did then,
he must have sensed that one day
I would come around


  1. Other lives we might have lived. An endless curiosity. We have to hope we moved to the right dance or chance.

  2. I think I did, Susan. But, as you say, endlessly intriguing.


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