Greetings from the Hill.
80/86 Light Rain S5/10 0727/1856
Helped the neighbor start his car with
an extension cord, fancy folks on Love Lane.
Writing on the glass table in the studio,
saturday morning notes,
a coolness in the air.
Cats inside, classics from Cuba, the Weather
Channel showing lots of green,
tires slick on the street.
Thinking about chores and bores,
home improvement for whom...
"Very simple, oldboy, don't smoke pot..
eat..and drink later," offers the visitor
at the screen door, folding his umbrella
on the front porch...the limey had been away
for a while, a rough tough first mate
in a pickup, in those days.
But this identity change was interesting,
perhaps different roles were manifesting or,
at crises, the original character revealed,
rather than the american disguises.
The Union Jack was back
and all the gold was in London, the Rothschild
clan and that silly other bitch,
the pound would get it's revenge on the buck,
and Michael Ra really gave a fuck.
"What's up mate," pretending again.
"I say..and who is this brave lad.."
picking up the big Tiger, purring
to the old friend....
"You must be the house Tiger,"
rocking him in his arms, big green eyes
in love and amazed this stranger
knew his name, of course Ra knew all,
the sungod on a rainy day in paradise.
"Well now..a lovely break in the mist..
let me take a look," dancing down the steps
doing a bit of an Irish jig to confuse,
a black Mercedes trunk lid popped
with a touchtone.
"I say, I say..but 'Today is the Day,"
laughing with his past and Mel Fisher
days at the Schooner Wharf...
a large bag of Meow Mix, two sixpacks
of Harp and Guiness.
"Never visit without gifts," dropping
twenty pounds on the porch with a thud..
"Very nice deck..looks like twenty
dollar swamp wood boards," unfolding
a white tshirt with a red maple leaf,
a strange grin.
"The loony is at par, the pound is up,
and I have no investments in the U.S.
but my limey heart and green card."
"Good to see you, my friend,"
a bit of a hug but neither were
of the graspy nature, a smile and good word,
the direct eye were what mattered
"Say, listen, I don't mean to be rude, but I am,"
affluence to poverty, the way it is, it....
"I have a few errands to attend," blue eyes
turning to black, old debts due, the walkabout.
"Here's the keys if you still like driving these things,
I bought in Toronto, white plates, got an apartment
above the lake...twisted the minds of the bloody
border boobs with my passports..Hofuckingho,"
leaving something else on the table.
The skies cleared at noon, blue skies of course,
smiling in the sun, Ra the sungod swung on the pole,
laughing.."Love vine on Love Lane....
no match for a Mason."
Only the oldman knew the Truth of that.