The Norbert Dentressangle Van
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#107 The Norbert Dentressangle Van
I heave my morning like a sack
of signs that don't appear,
say August, August, takes me back...
That it was not this year...
say greenness, greenness, that's the link...
That they were different trees
does not occur to those who think
in anniversaries.
I drive my morning like a truck
with a backsliding load,
say bastard, bastard, always stuck
behind him on the road
(although I saw another man
in a distinct machine
last time a Dentressangle van
was on the Al4).
I draw my evening like a blind,
say darkness, darkness, that's
if not the very then the kind...
That I see only slats...
say moonlight, moonlight, shines the same...
That it's a streetlamp's glow
might be enough to take the name
from everything we know.
I sketch my evening like a plan.
I think I recognise
the Norbert Dentressangle van...
That mine are clouded eyes...
say whiteness, whiteness, that's the shade...
That paint is tins apart
might mean some progress can be made
in worlds outside the heart.
Our wedding was many years ago. The celebration
continues to this day. ~ Gene Perret
The difficulty with marriage is that we fall in love with a personality,
but must live with a character. ~Peter Devries
Infatuation is when you think he's as sexy as Robert Redford, as smart as
Henry Kissinger, as noble as Ralph Nader, as funny as Woody Allen, and as
athletic as Jimmy Conners. Love is when you realize that he's as sexy as
Woody Allen, as smart as Jimmy Connors, as funny as Ralph Nader, as athletic
as Henry Kissinger and nothing like Robert Redford - but you'll take him
anyway. ~Judith Viorst, Redbook, 1975da
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