[lit-ideas] Re: SUNDAY POEM
- From: David Ritchie <ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sun, 12 Sep 2004 22:31:39 -0700
In the middle of nowhere, Oregon,
in King's Valley or the Valley of the Kings--
I can't recall exactly how the apostrophe goes--
somewhere in the boonies, where folk make hay,
Julia and I drove the new SAAB south to unearth my weapons' lie.
Driving, we talked of ladies in lakes and water closets,
pf Algebra homework, and of Shelby Foote and the stars in their courses.
She suddenly gestured at the landscape,
conjuring the scene in that film
when the flat accented Palin father says,
"And she has huge... tracts of land."
In some forgotten farmer's...tract of land,
we found, on second go around--
the site markers were less than sound--
the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire,
and bunches of people-- who could afford the insurance--
who jousted on the hilltops and in the valleys,
and many sizeable busts,
which did push-ups with the alacrity of Marines.
At a stall, stamped in metal badges,
we found frozen bits of wit:
"Vikings: the real Old Navy."
"Remember: pillage, then burn."
In my mind stuck, with the irritation of yellow cob corny bits,
"A smile, a kind word, and a knife between the ribs
goes a lot further than just a kind word."
When unveiled and delivered, my weapons caught the public taste
like buttered vegetables.
A passer by was heard to mutter, "Size matters!"
I walked to my car carrying what is called a "bearing sword."
This is not because it bares anything.
It is merely big and held erect.
It is attention-getting in the manner of rhinos coupling.
All around, folk in feathers and leather outfits
dropped their whips and suddenly stopped their lutish behavior.
Julia waved the Lochaber axe and dirk.
In a perfect world,
a rightly reconstructed world,
she should have probably have had coconuts,
and walked behind,
as did another couple,
who performed the Monty Python thing just so.
But then,
what would I, her proud father, be?
"God loves you,"
said another of those badges,
"but everyone else thinks you're an idiot."
With an axedaughter at one's side,
surely I was immune,
also far from home.
David Ritchie
Portland, Oregon
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