"18 Doesn't Make You a Man"
By Nicole Babich
On Wilde
"It is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly that all his life he has been speaking nothing but the truth."
My boyfriend is in trouble
Because his tales turn double
He speaks lies
Then claims I knew the truth to my very eyes
Men like to lie to pretty girls
That makes anger stem from my curls
What is more terrible living a lie
Or telling the same lies time after time
He does not get to feel sad
He has done all things bad
I tell him once to stop
His bad habits he does not drop
Chew. Chew. Spit.
Well that dog has now been bit
He certainly doesn't the know the importance of being learnest
I've heard it even from tourists
The importance here is being honest
Especially when men make promises
Jack and Algernon met their makers
But my sense of humor is as bitter as a salt shaker
The story has been Wilde
But in the end men realize they have only been acting like a child
[See April 5's posting for a brief statement about Nicole Babich.]
* * * * * * * * * *
"no destination at all"
By Carolee Salat
Remember those days of warm freedom
When the last evening's light lit your lips
And the pull of nowhere-to-be's
And the nothing-to-do's
Stopped you in your tracks out of breath?
When you could sit for hours
And listen to the Oo-wah-hooo, hoo-hoo
Of the mourning dove
Or the "Fee-bee, Fee-bee" of the black-capped chickadees
Feasting at your feeder
And you'd watch the leaves turn from
Brown, to yellow, to green, to red, to brown?
Do you remember
When the years passed so slowly
That you could hear them squeak along
Waiting, waiting, waiting
For the sun to rise and the moon to fall?
Do you remember being twelve
And eighteen, or twenty-three?
Do you remember thinking that
Anyone over the age of forty
Was "over the hill"
And didn't know what they were talking about,
And that they just didn't understand you?
I remember it all and more.
I keep it packed away
For that trip I'm going to take someday.
The one I've been planning
For days, and weeks, and year.
And when I get there
I'm going to lay it all out --
Take off my watch --
And slip in to each and every moment and memory
And head out on a long, long trip
With no destination at all
And with all the time
In the world.
[See April 25's posting for a brief statement about Carolee Salat.]
