![[dr. bob]](/dr-bob-sm.gif)
Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 3 of 3. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Atticus on August 13, 2004, at 9:50:25
Green Through-the-Looking-Glass Eyes, 2000
I'm slumped against Alice's unyielding body
Yet again,
Just as I have
So many times before.
Sitting beside her on
A mushroom cap
The size of a Toyota,
A kitten in her lap,
Her legs tucked demurely
Beneath her skirt,
Girlish arms extended
As if giving a blessing,
Her right hand reaching
Toward the giant
White rabbit
In the frock coat
Anxiously checking
His pocket watch,
Her left hand hovering
Near the Mad Hatter
Seated comfortably
On a smaller toadstool,
Chatting amiably
With the Doormouse.Their bronze features,
Though worn
By the curious hands
And scuffling feet
Of countless
Giggling children,
Still glitter
In the early afternoon sun
As it artfully
Draws brushstrokes
Of pure light
Across the shimmering
Little lake nearby
Called
Conservatory Water,
Where radio-controlled boats
Dart and skip across the surface
Like flecks
Of brightly colored
Red and green
And yellow paint
Bouncing on a liquid trampoline.
Car horns bleat
Like the cries
Of forlorn mechanical sheep,
The sound
Drifting into Central Park
From East 74th Street,
As if the vehicles
Were heartbroken
At being denied access
To this tranquil
Verdant place.Pez is lying across my legs,
Her bubble-gum pink
Buzz cut
Resting on my right thigh
Amid the swirls
And splatters of oil paint
Adorning my jeans.
A black-and-white beret
Bearing a checkerboard pattern,
Accessorized
With a real sunflower
The size of my hand,
Rests near Alice's dainty foot.
Such a Pez touch, I think,
As she dozes
On the warm metal surface
Of the sculpture
And the even warmer
Flesh
Of my legs,
Her own shins
Dangling carelessly
Over the mushroom cap's
Edge.My right leg begins to twitch
And soon,
Its twin joins it,
And when she stirs, I say,
Sorry, it's the meds
That I took
At lunch
Kicking in.
Where's that hookah-smoking
Caterpillar
When I really need him?
Guess I'll have to settle
For a Marlboro red
Instead.
"How's that new med doing?"
She asks,
Trying too hard
To sound casual.
"The Zoloft?" I answer,
"Zo-zo,"
As the tremors spread
To my hands,
And I drum my fingers
On the mushroom
To hide
The trembling of the digits.
I feel a tingle
Like ants scrambling
Across the skin
Of my scalp,
Swarming uneasily
Amid the ominous dark spikes
Of my hair.
Pez raises herself up
On her left elbow,
And my gaze
Lingers
On her green
Through-the-looking-glass eyes
Just a moment
Too long,
Revealing an unspoken thought
That I'd hoped to conceal.
She sits up completely,
And gives me
A long, appraising stare.I snatch up
My bottle of water,
Now grown warm
In the sun,
Pull a bottle
Of Xanax
From my pocket,
Pour out a generous handfull
And wash them down.
Pez puts on her beret,
Still studying
My face.
I try
To distract her
By grinning
And singing, softly,
"One pill
Makes you taller,
And one pill
Makes you small,
And the ones
That
Mother gives you
Don't do
Anything
At all,
Go ask Alice
When she was
Ten feet tall."Pez smiles puckishly.
"Not so fast, buster,"
She says.
"Were you just flirtin' with me,
Cheshire Cat?"
I draw a deep breath,
Then answer,
"Yeah. 'Fraid I was."
She tilts her head,
Murmuring,
"Thought so, slick."
Pez gently starts
To say something
About her ex-boyfriend,
Acid-Addled Walter.
My former bud
Copped a plea
On drug possession,
Flipped on his dealer,
And now Walter's doing time
In a rehab center
Somewhere upstate
On his old man's dime.
But only
After he almost
Sucked the life
Right out of Pez
As she made
Fruitless attempt
After
Fruitless attempt
To rescue
The latest
In a long line
Of wounded sparrows
With broken wings
That she made the mistake
Of bringing home,
Only to find herself
Caught
In the razor-sharp talons
Of needy raptors.Her face
Betrays genuine surprise
When I lay
My right forefinger
On her lips
To hush her,
And say,
"I know, I know,
It's impossible.
You don't need -"
I tap my left temple
"All this,
All this madness
On your shoulders."
She says nothing,
Looking down
At the burnished bronze surface
Of the mushroom.
"Can't say I blame you,"
I add
In a shaky whisper.I turn my head
Toward the unseen streets
Beyond the trees.
"Y'know," I say,
"It's been a long time
Since we Schwarzed."
Pez glances up
Quickly,
Her green eyes brightening.
"Yes it has. Yes it has.
You vanna Schwarz with me, Cheshire?"
I shiver slightly, then relax,
As the Xanax begins
To reel in
The runaway Zoloft.
"Absolutely, Jabberwocky.
Absolutely."
We slide off the mushroom,
Setting off
At an easy mosey
Toward 58th and Fifth,
And all the treasures
At F.A.O.'s.
She hooks her right arm
Through my left
As my Harley-Davidson boots
Thump along
Through the
Bright spring grass
Toward the toy store,
Where we'll run around
Like 5 year olds,
Pummeling
Each other
With enormous
Stuffed animals
Carrying $2,500
Price tags
Until,
As usual,
A security guard
Tells us
To knock it off.
-- Atticus
Posted by Jai Narayan on August 13, 2004, at 15:24:57
In reply to poem... Green Through-the-Looking-Glass Eyes, 2000, posted by Atticus on August 13, 2004, at 9:50:25
wonderful wonderful w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l
*~*
^ ^
I love what you do with those words! You make them sparkle and dance.
Love everything about this one.Sometimes you have a few sentences that stand out and out shine the rest of the poem but this one's even and smooth. Almost like not reading at all....it just floats through my brain.
My gosh you have been through so much with your meds. I have been fortunate and never needed meds.
My mothers drug was Stelazine(really not sure of the spelling). Her hands would move all the time and her thumbs would make little circles on the steering wheel when she drove the car. Her hands were always tense with what looked like fury.
My sister said for the first 7 months of Lithium her hands trembled so terribly she almost quit. She did stay on Lithium and has been stable for decades.Hands....they are the "tell".
Jai Narayan the humble penitent who sits for long hours praying and meditating
Posted by Atticus on August 13, 2004, at 18:32:05
In reply to Re: poem... Green Through-the-Looking-Glass Eyes,, posted by Jai Narayan on August 13, 2004, at 15:24:57
Thanks as always, Jai. To this day, I still have a crush on Pez. I tried so hard to hide it back in those days, but on this occasion, when we were hanging out on my favorite sculpture in Central Park, I let the cat out of the bag. Hard to hide some things when you're tanked up on meds. You're so right about the trembling hands. It made doing even simple things maddeningly difficult sometimes. By the point this encounter took place in the park (and it really is such a beautiful spot), I'd lost my grip on written language and couldn't do line drawings or cartoons anymore. The pen line would go all over the place. So I was relying on the painting to communicate things. Incidentally, I ran a search-and-destroy program through my anti-viral software this evening, and found that a worm had indeed invaded my hard drive. It's toast now, and I'm not sure it caused yesterday's difficulties, but I was able to access this page after that. Which is a huge relief. Ta. :) Atticus of Atlantis, who's been escorted out of F.A.O. Schwarz on three different occasions when Pez got him too wound up for his own good.
This is the end of the thread.
Psycho-Babble Writing | Extras | FAQ
Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.org
Script revised: February 4, 2008
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/cgi-bin/pb/mget.pl
Copyright 2006-17 Robert Hsiung.
Owned and operated by Dr. Bob LLC and not the University of Chicago.