16th & 17th November, 2006

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Photo by Edward Habib McKuen. ©2006 by Stanyan Audio Video Archives

A Thought for Today

Friendship is a seed once sown that’s better cultivated in the practice. 

 

FROM the¨BOOKS

Manhattan Beach

I've taken a house on Manhattan Beach
working the summer into a book.

Eddie came last weekend
and brought some girls and some books.
The girls were pretty but the books stayed longer
and now they menace me stacked up on the floor
              staring back in unread smugness.
Otherwise I've had no visitors.

It's hard to sleep
though I try breathing with the waves.
It only makes me think
of our own breathing counterpoint.

At first I missed the traffic
   then the telephone.
Finally I call back
a hundred more familiar rooms
and sink down past the pillows eye.
It makes me think I ought to try to buy
Songs and safe surroundings I know best
and keep them in a half-packed suitcase
for sojourns such as these.

Katie keeps me company
and brings back fantastic things
from her daily runs along the beach.
A weathered stick
             a bottle with no note
                           assorted other dogs.
She has, I fear, bad taste in canine friends
(the kind you say I've lately had in people.)

Still, lying by my bed at night
she smells like all the seas I've known
and that's a comfort to the sailor in me.

Will I see Capri again?
Hydra is just a name now
though once the big boats
              filled the harbor
and young Greeks made me dance
while up above the Suco-Suco
a boy of fifteen stretched himself
and caught me thinking ten years back
regretting not the gone-forever mornings
but wondering only how I'd live
                    another afternoon.

I nearly died that August.
Some fever made of lamb no doubt
or nightly walks along the harbor.
I stayed alive on summer squash and Coca-Cola
                  and wrote no songs.

No letters came that summer either
and I was down to eighty drachma
when I left the island.

Still I would go back
but not to Athens with it's tear gas for the masses
                     and bayonets -
              the buckshot of the upper classes.

Naples is the asshole of the world
       (ah, but there's Capri.)
Majorca still has buggy rides
that take you to the sea.

Outside Katie's barking on the beach.
She's found a seal
             that wants to play.

- from "Lonesome Cities," first published by Random House in 1968

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notable birthdays

Thursday 16 November

Oksana Baiul o Lisa Bonet o Daws Butler o Gene Clark o Eddie Condon o Dwight Gooden o Clu Gulager o William Christopher Handy o Paul Hindemith o George S. Kaufman o David Leisure o Mary Margaret McBride o Fibber McGee (James Jordon) o Donna McKechnie o Burgess Meredith o Trevor Penick o Joanna Pettet o Martha Plimpton o Guy Stockwell

Friday 17 November

Mischa Auer o Peter Cook o Danny DeVito o Daisy Fuentes o Rock Hudson o Lauren Hutton o Hershey Kay o Gordon Lightfoot o Sir. Charles MacKerras o Dean Paul Martin o Bob Mathias o Lorne Michaels o Myra Montezuma o Bebe Rebozo o RuPaul o Martin Scorsese o Tom Seaver o Lee Strasberg

Rod's random thoughts The guarantee for finding sanity again is finding love again and giving over to the new beloved that one facet of yourself that you held back the last time.

Time is an enemy only to those who waste it.

Time is a runner, and not with good intentions.

MORNING, TWO

We sleep well together
in nobody's world
but our own.
          A Monday-sleep.
A stomach-to-stomach safely sleep,
that wraps us in each other
and takes us from ourselves.

The parish priest
worried over my soul when I was younger.
We go to church one day a week
to take us from our selfish selves

            he used to say.
It was the best excuse I ever heard
   for organized believing.

Who would have thought religion
        could so simple?

- from "Lonesome Cities," first published by Random House in 1968

 
     
 
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