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    In the Tavern of Lost Souls

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      He healed the sick

      Raised the dead

      Argued with the devil

      But

      Would not go into the kitchen.

      *

      Is the Kitchen Life? [Calhoun]

      The December darkness was full of lost highways

      Terminal mist, the thump of dead animals

      Beneath the bald Goodyear tires

      So

      I shambled into a bar in Stratford

      Wearied my torso to a table,

      Dropped the chili and fries prescription on

      The local Lady of Darkness.

      She noted my doom with a short yellow pencil and

      A sudden intake of breath.

      I followed her, silent as a wolf, to the kitchen.

      Lear himself, sniveling over a grill

      Begged me, with old beagle eyes, for release.

      "Not till you've done my order," I temporized

      Buy Lady Cordelia surlied me back

      To my table.

      "It is his life," she said, "and God

      Doesn't make mistakes - ketchup and

      Vinegar with your fries?"

      It seemed wise to agree - I'd seen the spare

      Set of shackles beside the deep fryer.

      *

      Is the Kitchen Life? [Blossom]

      we

      put our

      first Christmas tree

      on the tiny kitchen table

      ah

      small apartment; the bathroom was too small and we

      needed the bedroom

      for

      three

      weeks

      we ate supper

      sitting on the kitchen floor

      cups and dishes spread all around us

      ****

      Chapter 11: What is Beauty?

      "I think Alf likes you," Blossom noted, working on an extra-large Diet Pepsi.

      "You drinking that straight?" Lollie stood up to stop the bartender. She made a design in the wetness of the tabletop. He got the hint, and wiped it again with his rag. It wasn't much of an improvement.

      "I could use a something stronger." Blossom seemed a bit lost.

      "Problems?"

      "Had an abortion last month."

      Lollie just nodded.

      "The poem I wrote is for the son I'll never have." Blossom turned to watch the wall. "Here are the boys. Don't tell them."

      There seemed, Lollie thought, a gap between men and women that poems only made worse.

      *

      What is Beauty? [Alf]

      He remembered each spring of

      His childhood, and the way

      The wild mustard flowers covered slopes

      That rolled like waves of sunlight

      Down to the bay.

      After the flowers, there was the road

      Dry, and hard, through the desert

      Past the temple

      To the hill.

      He could easily see eternity from the hill

      But it was spring, and

      He strained, trying to see if

      He’d left even the faintest trail

      Through the wild mustard.

      *

      What is Beauty? [Lollie]

      The instant men die, they dream of

      Beautiful angels, knowing

      There can be no overweight women

      In heaven.

      Men on earth do not trust

      Ugly women, knowing

      These obviously do not know the way

      To Heaven.

      *

      What is Beauty? [Blossom]

      I was just a bit late, but

      when he saw me

      he smiled like his world

      had been remade, and

      hugged me till I could

      hardly breathe

      every woman deserves to be beautiful

      if only for a few heartbeats

      *

      What is Beauty? [Calhoun]

      If, on your travels, you find

      An old stone fence

      It is important that

      You have no map.

      Rest on a block of Cambrian

      Granite

      Watch the clouds.

      Look across the field

      Wonder if there's another fence

      More stones

      On the other side.

      ****

      Chapter 12: What is Love?

      Lollie usually arrived early, usually before any of the others. This time, she hesitated again outside the doors. When someone came out, she saw Cal hunched over the table, making corrections to the four copies of his poem.

      For some reason, maybe a bad month, maybe the flickering of a streetlight, maybe the gathering rain, she didn't want to talk to Cal. He seemed to be porter at a train station where all the trains went to the wrong place.

      Turning, she started down the street, hesitated again, then turned back the other way, to a coffee shop that was still open.

      By the time she got back, carrying a chocolate donut, it was a lot closer to midnight. She ate the donut quickly, then pushed into the room. It was deserted, except for the kid behind the bar and Cal.

      As he came up to Cal, he held up a piece of paper. "No talking, please," was written on it, in bold marker. Lollie sat down and got out her poems.

      Blossom arrived to face the same sign. She shrugged and sat down. The bartender arrived, bringing drinks for Lollie and Blossom, and another for Alf. Cal pushed forward another paper. "I ordered for you." was printed on it.

      Alf himself arrived, and was shushed into silence.

      "Why?" he wrote onto the back of one of Cal's signs.

      "Too sensitive a topic." Cal wrote back.

      "How will we read our poems?" Blossom took the pen and scribbled the question on the bottom of the page in big block letters.

      "Just exchange and go home," Cal wrote. His handwriting was tiny and immaculate.

      Alf sat there a moment with his eyes closed tight, then nodded and passed around copies of his poem. The others followed suit.

      Lollie read each of the poems in turn. Somehow Cal's poem took her completely by surprise. The guy's actually got a soul, she thought. Somehow it made her even less inclined to talk to him. She became glad that there would be no speaking.

      When they had assigned the next topic and date, Lollie waved goodbye, and headed for the door. Looking back, she discovered the others following her, a parade of muted poets.

      *

      What is Love? [Blossom]

      in the morning you lie in bed

      your head on his shoulder

      his cheek in your hair

      wait for his first words

      listen for one word

      "we"

      *

      What is Love? [Calhoun]

      Moth to the candle

      There came I

      Not half so dumb

      Not half so wise

      I learned as much

      Of love’s game

      As the moth

      Of the flame

      *

      What is Love? [Lollie]

      When they locked the church, at five

      There were two hidden quiet in the loft.

      He was happy she would risk her mother’s anger

      For him.

      She was happy he would risk God’s wrath

      For her.

      *

      What is Love? [Alf]

      Love is madness to fight the madness of the universe

      The whole poem in one moment

      It took forever for her to

      Remove her panties

      My wicked mind made a

      Transit of the galaxy

      Solved the backup riddle of the sphinx

      Invented a new mathematics

      Populated desert plants

      It took forever for her to

      Remove her panties

      The skies began to sing; I signed

      The declaration of dependence

      The Buddha said, “Pay attention.

      The
    re are four hundred billion questions and

      You’re

      About

      To

      Find

      The

      Answer.”

      ****

      Chapter 13: Why is a Cry in the Night Like the World Coming to an End?

      "I wonder if we're learning anything from each other," Cal said.

      "Doubt it," Blossom observed.

      "Maybe not, but this is the second time Lollie's put churches and bibles in her poetry, and that used to be Alf's corner of the field."

      Two things bothered Lollie. For one, Cal was right. For another, he'd put her name in the first line of his poem, and she couldn't figure out what the line was telling her.

      She smiled, and raised a toast to Alf. "To Gods and bibles and all that stuff us lost souls can only see from a distance."

      "Amen," said Alf. "Did anyone actually answer the question tonight?"

      The all scanned the poems. "No way," Blossom observed. "But Cal and Lollie at least had the decency to wake up screaming in their poems."

      "I knew there was something going on between those two," Alf chuckled.

      "To all those poets," Cal said, "who wake up screaming."

      "Amen," Lollie echoed. The four of them clinked glasses over the centre of the table.

      *

      Why is a Cry in the Night Like the World Coming to an End? [Calhoun]

      Paper the windows, Lollie -

      I can live in the basement

      In Wiarton, they wait for the groundhog

      The second day of February

      It is never a monster: I stay inside; I am

      Brambles in the hurricane, the slug under

      The log where the grouse drums for his mate

      I would put all glass in blue boxes; it permits

      Light, and I’ve never liked the way

      My shadow moves on concrete walls

      When I wake suddenly to a scream.

      *

      Why is a Cry in the Night Like the World Coming to an End? [Lollie]

      If you wake at night,

      Screaming

      Check the floor.

      If it is level, then you were dreaming

      You were a plum.

      But if it is slanted

      Find a bible

      Quickly.

      *

      Why is a Cry in the Night like the World coming to an End? [Blossom]

      party over

      guests gone home

      i sit in the dark

      eating all the remaining appetizers

      quickly, as they get soggy

      with tears

      *

      Why is a Cry in the Night Like the World Coming to an End? [Alf]

      At three in the morning, the phone rang

      Somewhere vast fields of cattails

      Ran in hysterics to the seething river

      The moon glaring and owls dropping from the sky

      To seize deer that had come across my lawn

      To the apple tree.

      Within the desolation, it rang again.

      Cain himself got up, fire gassing impatient

      From his whetted eyes.

      Tooth fairies, mad with fermented pumpkin rum pudding

      Tore bystanders from behind dew-wet and quivering bushes

      Into the ivory light

      I said hello. Someone hung up.

      “Shucks and darn it,” I said.

      ****

      Chapter 14: Who is the Enemy?

      "Question thirteen," Lollie told the others. "A nice luckless number at the dark of the moon in the tavern of lost poetic souls just over a year after we started this."

      "The questions haven't got any better," Alf observed.

      "Maybe we've saved the universe by providing answers," Cal offered.

      "Worth saving?" Blossom was wearing a severe black dress with a blood-red scarf around her shoulders.

      The others looked at each other. "No way," Lollie said.

      "Not our job," Alf chipped in.

      "Whose job is it, then?" Lollie suddenly wondered what drinking beer through a straw would be like.

      "Whoever's the enemy." Alf stretched and yawned.

      "And who might that be," Lollie asked.

      "Let's find out." Cal dealt out the cards.

      After the poems had been read, Lollie observed, "I nominate Blossom's as the poem of the night." When Blossom looked like she was about to protest, Lollie went on, "Yours is the only poem that I can understand without having to read it twelve times."

      "That's good?" Blossom looked amused.

      "That's terrible," Lollie said. "I'm astounded that you'd dare show up with a simple poem like that. We ought to ban you permanently."

      "I can do an exorcism," Cal offered.

      "I can assist," Alf added.

      "No way." Lollie shook her head. "The demons would never figure out what you actually mean."

      "I guess Blossom will have to do her own exorcism then." Cal drained his beer.

      "I'll put it on my list," Blossom said. "Somewhere between the laundry and cleaning the toilet."

      "Has it really been just a year?" Alf stretched his neck sideways. "It seems longer."

      "It's true," Lollie said. "I calculate we've spent over seven hours in each other's company. We're practically family."

      "I've got a thought," Cal said. "Next time, let's answer the question. Or try."

      "Heretic!" Alf shouted.

      *

      Who is the Enemy? [Alf]

      When the sky fell he was there

      Handing me the pieces

      I filled the basement with them

      Did my laundry on the sidewalk after that

      When the land broke like an egg

      He made me an omelet

      I thought it was fine

      Even if full of shells

      When the seas drained dry

      He invented mudshoes for me

      So I could walk among

      Silver flopping fishes

      Just before the volcano erupted

      I thought I saw him laughing

      Wearing a Yuk-Yuk’s T-shirt and

      Swinging a can of gasoline

      *

      Who is the Enemy? [Blossom]

      my words in poems.

      I try, but they are like

      butterflies

      painted by a blinded woman

      trying to

      remember.

      *

      Who is the Enemy? [Calhoun]

      You fall from the trapeze

      If no-one gasps

      Or even hides a smile

      You may as well take

      The back route out of here.

      Try not to look back

      At the big tent,

      Flags flapping

      Hold your hands over your ears

      So you don’t hear them

      Applauding the clowns.

      *

      Who is the Enemy? [Lollie]

      I believed she was my friend

      And we’d always be able to talk about

      Men and kids and maple walnut

      She would wear wooden beads one day

      As a surprise

      I would show up at the café

      Blonde, with small gold ear-rings

      I never hated Santa, you know;

      Only those that encouraged me

      To believe.

      ****

      Chapter 15: Why are There Shadows?

      "Can you answer the question of why there are shadows without also answering why there is light?" Alf was looking older and more tired than usual, hulking over the table like a stork over a giant egg.

      "Let me read this." Lollie passed around copies of her poem, and read it.

      "So there are shadows because…." Blossom fumbled a bit.

      "Because we love light, but we need to know where it is coming from. And there are forms of light only the heart can see."

      "Then only the heart can see the shadows produced by those forms of light." Alf leaned further over.


      "If you're lucky," Blossom said, passing out chocolate cookies to the others. "Let me read my poem."

      When she was done, Cal shook his wild hair. "A shadow is what is left when love is gone."

      Damn right." Blossom looked over at him, hard. "Or who is left."

      "My turn." Alf read his loudly enough to draw the attention of a couple of young drunks for a moment.

      "So why are there shadows?" Blossom peered at the page.

      "Probably," Lollie said, "to show that you exist. If you have a shadow, you're not a ghost."

      "Got it." Alf finally straightened up a bit. "Cal?"

      When Cal had read his work, he sat back and looked at the others.

      "I see you've included Lollie again. You two have something to tell us."

      Cal smiled. "Lollie doesn't really like me very much, but she seems like another strange person, so I sense a kinship. An antagonistic kinship maybe, but a kinship nonetheless."

      "I guess any attention is better than none," Lollie said. "But I think you're saying God made shadows so weirdos and strange people have some place to hide."

      "Bingo!" said Cal, smiling.

      "Can you imagine anyone more ordinary than me?" Lollie raised her eyebrows well above her bifocals.

      "I'd have said 'no' to that a year ago, but an ordinary person wouldn't, couldn't write the poems you do. What do you say to that?" Cal leaned back in his chair.

      "I think," said Lollie evenly, "that you are in real need of fiber in your diet. Possibly a couple of tablespoons of mineral oil, then make sure you take Metamucil every day."

      Blossom and Alf laughed. Cal shook his head, and smiled. "What's brought you to this shadow world at the dark of the moon?" he asked. "Was the sun too bright yesterday or today, or are you putting your poems between yourself and tomorrow?"

      "Maybe," Alf offered, "she comes here to watch shadows. Maybe she sees poetry as the light."

      "And if I am the darkness, we complement each other." Cal drained his beer.

      "Except for using my name in vain, tonight's was one of your best poems. That," said Lollie firmly, "is the only compliment you get tonight."

      "I guess any compliment is better than none," Cal said. "Buy me a plate of those awful fries and I'll promise to refrain from using your name in the future. If you're in the poem, you'll have to figure it out yourself."

      Lollie looked at the other two. "Blackmail," Blossom said. Alf nodded.

      "I won five bucks in the lottery today," Lollie said. "Otherwise I wouldn't play your silly-ass games." She called the bartender over, and ordered five dollars worth of fries.

      *

      Why are There Shadows? [Lollie]

      I knew a woman once;

      No side of her leaned

      Into darkness

      She wandered the olive groves, but found

     
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