[ToC]

 

ON WATCHING MY FRIEND CHASE HER SON ACROSS THE YARD BY THE POOL

Robin LaMer Rahija

There has never been
a bigger field.
The whole planet exists
right here and it is Very American.

We frolic like the adult
babies in Sophie's Choice
before the cruelty
of the men starts.
Of course    after war
she would fall in love
with the first hipster
she saw     poor Sophie.
What are his suburban
dramas compared
to her reality     anyway.

The actual baby here
holds the chopped top
of an orange pepper
like a flower.
What a pretty flower!
we all say.
I dare you to say
That’s not a flower
to a slick-grinned boy
who knows nothing.

It’s the humidity
that reminds me
of the movie.
The air is thick
with the watery nostalgia
of pre-AC and a
Hemingwayesque-lack
of mental health awareness
for the lower classes.

Of course
the boy has the simple
pleasures of babyhood.
But I have different
simple pleasures—
being 31 and childless
and having seven beers
and half a joint
and one nap
on a Tuesday.

But the pepper is
the remains of the flower
after the flower has died.
And I know or feel
for the first two hours
of the chase     anyway
I know nothing of happiness.

 

 

 

__

I was watching my friend chase her son across the yard by the pool, and the allure of suburban comforts was pulling on me hard, which is a weird, cinematic allure. But you have to take your good feelings when you can.