Archive | May, 2013

Saturday Morning at the Blue Hour

30 May

Not all poetry sites are created equal. I really hate to say that, but it’s true. Having a web page is not the same thing as being a good poetry editor and having an eye for good work. But the good folks at the Blue Hour, they really know what they’re doing. And when I get to a poem accepted there, well, I’d be lying if it didn’t feel pretty darn good.

So thanks to the Blue Hour for accepting Saturday Morning, and apologies for all the blatant sentimentality. Sometimes I can be such a girl.

I Went Walking Far From Home

20 May

If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish. – Charles Dickens

Distance: 5.5 miles

Neighborhoods traversed: Bay Ridge, Sunset Park, Prospect Heights, Park Slope

Number of streets/blocks crossed: 79

Number of avenues crossed: 8

Musical accompaniment: Conor Oberst/Bright Eyes (all photo captions are song lyrics)

Purpose: Transportation, Thinking

Frequency: 5 – 6 times a week


The whole world’s just a little oyster


Another century spent pointing guns at everything that moves


I can’t tell where the canvass stops, homesick as an astronaut.


Encoded arc our common cause


You can choose the high or the lower road


As we pass over on the arc of time


But the devil’s in the details


The worm in my heart is the apple of your eye.


A downpour of sweat, damp cotton clouds


This is the first day of my life
Swear I was born right in the doorway


So you walk that way, I’ll walk this way


Did it all get real, I guess it’s real enough
They got refrigerators full of blood


I watched your face die backwards
Little baby in my memory


But I bet the stars seemed so close at the end


Hey, where have all the dancers gone? Now the music doesn’t play


See the Soul Singer in the session band


If I could change my mind, change the paradigm
Prepare myself for another life


How’d it get so dark in the day?


I never dreamed of heaven much till they put him in the ground


Holding our tears as we flip the album
What if this leads to ruin?


One for the tyrant, one for the slaughtered lamb


Drenched us in approximated sunlight


The black machine
Played it all from memory
A fever dream


Don’t go there
You’re getting nowhere


My maiden mother crone


I’d give a fortune to your infomercial
If somebody would just take my call


With the Son of God just hanging like a common criminal


And make a plan to love me sometime soon


“Where are we going?” and he looks at her and he says “We’re going to a party.
It’s a birthday party. It’s your birthday party.


How time can move both fast and slow
Amazes me


We were a goldmine and they gutted us


If you could just crack the shell open
I think inside you would find something sweet.


You know I’ll call you eventually
When I wanna talk, ’til then you’re invisible


I have my drugs, I have my woman
They keep away my loneliness


When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend


But I sing glory from my lowest
And I will say peace to the people I meet


Baby tell me where’d you go for days and days


Fall asleep reading science fiction
I want to fly in your silver ship


In the sunshine, try to act normal


One for the Führer, one for his child bride


And if life seems absurd what you need is some laughter


You see stars that clear have been dead for years
But the idea just lives on


I’m gonna write another traveling song
About all the billion highways and the cities at the break of dawn

Letter to Big Ron (a.k.a. Dad)

15 May

Hi Big Ron (a.k.a Dad)

How’re you?

Me? I’m good. You know, same old.

So listen, I’ve got something I wanted to tell you.

Here goes: I’ve been to a couple ballgames already this year – you know there’s nothing better than live ball – but there’s a hitch.

They weren’t Yankee games.


They were the Mets.

Now, wait, Dad. I can hear what you’re saying. “Ally, the Mets? They’re an expansion team.” Which, let’s be honest, Dad, we both know isn’t really true anymore. Sheesh, it was 1962!

So why the Mets instead of the Yankees? Well the first game it was your son-in-law’s birthday. You know how he is – loves the Yankees but being a non native he relishes that he doesn’t have to choose. The Mets were the ones in town.

The second game was against the Buccos! We had to go see the Pirates when they’re in town. Look, there’s Cutch at the plate!


And then there’s this – I can ACTUALLY afford to get tickets to the Mets without taking out a loan. Which we both know isn’t true with NEW Yankee Stadium. Man, I miss the old one, don’t you?

Just for the record the Pirates stomped all over the Mets. 11-2. It was brutal. While we were there your son-in-law got into a conversation with the elderly couple that were sitting next to us (you know how he LOVES small talk, even about baseball) but they wouldn’t let up, blah blah blah Mets, Mets, Mets, not even when the dark clouds they had threatened all day rolled in and the rain looked like it was going to drench us.


Before they left they took down his email address and offered to sell us their season tickets, and Dad, I admit it – I was excited. You know I love live baseball and the Mets man, they aren’t so bad. That Wright kid can run circles around A-Rod (provided he ever plays again and yes, I know you don’t like him) but I’m just saying, I was sitting there thinking, hey, why not? It’s still baseball, right? Plus they seemed so nice – they even had a little dance they did together during the Seventh Inning Stretch.

I didn’t even mind when she called us Jake and Callie. But then, later, on the train, giddy about the Buccos win it all changed.

Me: “So that was really nice of them to include us on the email about the tickets.”

Jay: (terse nod)

Me: “What? What’s wrong?”

Jay: “You didn’t hear what she said.”

Me: “After she called us Jake and Callie?” (laughing)

Jay: “Yeah. She said ‘We may have lost but at least we’re not Yankee’s fans.'”


Yeah. That’s what she said. So you know what, Dad, the next game: Bronx or Bust. Even without my Jeter.


your favorite (the little one!)

Back from Austria

6 May

Hi kids

I’m back? Did you miss me?

Aw…I missed you too! Kisses!

So I spent the week in Vienna and Salzburg and I saw amazing things like this:

Vienna Opera House

and this:


And we went to the Mozart’s birthplace:

and stood in the room he was born in and saw the house he died in and his death mask.

We also went to Beethoven’s house:

and saw his Art Conquers All creed and his death mask (with teeth!). Sorry no photos allowed of that.

And then, because it’s one of my favorite things to do, we went grave hunting and hit some really big ones like

Gustav Klimt

Ludwig Van Beethoven

Franz Schubert

Richard Strauss

Johannes Brahms

Arnold Schoenberg

And lest you think me a stuffy classical music listening snob, there’s also Falco. Yes, THAT Falco

And I saw Art with a capital A.

Most moving for me was The Kiss by Gustav Klimt

Aside from this having been one of my favorite images since I was a teenager, the Belvedere where the Kiss is housed displayed it perfectly. As you round the corner into the gallery space, it’s hung on the stark black wall and lit in a way that all the fine gold filaments of the robe shone. It was bigger than I had expected it to be. Nearby on the other walls are more of Klimt’s work including Judith:

File:Gustav Klimt 039.jpg

Yes that is a severed head under her arm.

Also saw some Egon Schiele, like this and this and this.

Now, that was a good day.

What else…oh the food! and the drinks!

That’s a LITER of beer

mmmmmm prrrreeeetttzzzzeeellllsssss

and of course goulash!

It was a truly magical trip – Vienna and Salzburg are both such gorgeous cities with crumbling old cemeteries

and mountains



It was a wonderful place to spend my birthday.

And lest I forget there’s also Lederhosen!

and more Lederhosen


After all, Salzburg is the home of Sound of Music

But more than anything, the whole trip really felt like it was about Mozart – about chasing Mozart’s ghost – from the house he was born in with it’s little baby violin to the homes in Vienna where they carried his piano in and out each night for concerts – to the house he died in. On our last day we watched the Opera Die Zauberflote on the patio of the Opera House, projected on the big screen (that’s where us regular people who can’t afford to get in go to see it)

and we found where he himself was buried – or at least where they think he’s buried. For those of you that don’t know, Mozart was buried in a pauper’s grave – more than likely due to his inability to budget and a gambling problem. If you have an interest in this genius I highly recommend Mozart: A Life by Maynard Solomon.

We trucked out to St. Marx Friedhof and climbed the long hill as the lily petals fell off the trees and we found him




Auf Weidersahen Austria. I truly hope to see you again soon.

Though I must admit, on the long 8 hour flight from Berlin, I already began to scheme about the next trip….

%d bloggers like this: