Noodles In Liquid Goo

He'll have a decaf and we talk of the Spanish Jewish cemetery by Trader Joe's on 21st and how everyone on the street looks so 1980's except it is a different set of people that I don't recognize and I am not a little girl anymore in red clogs, a halter dress or a straw hat to keep away the scorching sun.. There are no narrow lanes with the curious tea maker and his lewd comments to the half clad half covered rustic women with fenestrated wooden rests on their head for the fresh baked pita bread. No stray dogs to be shot in the middle of the night.. there are no 19 marble steps to her old house and there's no one there waiting for me to play hopscotch on the mosaic floor or marvel at Cousin H's ever expanding collection of glass marbles. No more men in the grand room after noon prayer to play chess they've fallen one by one and the rest scattered about and old & disappointed with life. There are no more lazy Mediterranean afternoons by the white sea.. no the sun here just doesn't rise or set the same. And there's no value to what remains to the mind's despair or what we attain.


We Live and we grow old and we rest on the cane and ponder those days when we made mud pies with water and sun, smiled proud at the Chemtrail Planes and their crazy colored clouds we see a whole new people who may have come through us except they're not us and they think somewhat the same and dress vaguely familiar, perhaps as that man laying there in the Old Spanish cemetery, how he must have wandered the earth one day a child a man perhaps a father a general to some nameless war and died on some foreign soil for us to spin a long tale of his existence as we ourselves weave our own tales, engrave our mark on the earth. Yes I was here, I have belonged to a people and people have belonged to me & I have loved them farther beyond the words and they took a piece of my soul with them and perhaps our soul is meant to depart in bits as it is the natural order of things to crescendo and decrescendo so that in the end if we're wise we realize that all the truth that there's is that we only belong to him and to him we shall return.

---M