storeeze

Paranoia: Recurrent suspicions, without justification—The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition  Saint Louis was on his stallion atop Art Hill Saturday night. My pocket buzzed.  “Charlie! I'm sitting here in the green chairs in the middle, in front of the stage [chairs she corralled from the VIPs]. Take a look. I don't know where you're at.” Another call. “I have no idea where you're at. None. I'm on the hill now. I don't see anything. Weird. I'm moving around all over this damn park, and I don't see you anywhere! And you're not answering your phone. I'm wandering around here, and you're like nowhere.” One more time. “I don't get it at all. What'd you do, go to the wrong park? What'd you do? I'm walking around. You should see me!” I fancy Arlene’s eyes and her voice, but I was wondering what was behind the green doors on stage. I looked up: Arlene, hands on hips, looking electric. “Yeah, it’s me.” ...

There's a new statue of Miles Davis outside Marilyn's Bar in downtown Alton, an old river town twenty miles north of St. Louis. Arlene, me and 300 others were awaiting the reveal on a cool October afternoon. After the dedication, it was time for Arlene to pursue her instincts: “When was his birthday?” “May 26, 1926.” “Five plus two and six, a thirteen—one and three, he's a four. A box has four sides. He's feeling confined.” A raspy whisper floated through the air. “What’s that, man? I'm not in a box.” Arlene turned. “Oh, hi Miles. You’re late or we're early.” “Ghosts are always late. They come so quiet, you never hear them.” “I love your indigo and turquoise brocade frock and stunna shades.” Was he here through the miracle of cryopreservation? He didn't smell bad. Miles raised his ghostly voice. “May 25th, dammit!” Someone screamed. The crowd fell back. Arlene recalculated. “That's five plus two and five, a twelve—you're a three. I'm a th...

Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.—King James Bible, 1611, Matthew, 5:15.   Inasmuch as the recent events surrounding the Lady Arlene (if that indeed is her real name) are not widely known, I have attempted a rude and hasty account from marginal notes, eyewitness accounts and a late edition of the Creve Coeur Crier. The first indication of something amiss was a no-show for a four o'clock showing of The Favourite, a film illuminated by candles, for it seems that on the previous night, she had been resting under a canopy in her handsome, four poster bed after the day’s entertainments. The Crier did not state if she had drawn unknown persons to her baits or excited any passions, but as of late, she had been much taken by a new cleansing ritual, touted by a talk show host with Axis pretensions, utilizing a regimen of pulverized kale enemas (not recommended). When she wasn’t running to the b...

The narrator is 3rd person omniscient. Bell, Book and Candle adds a whiff of spells, witchcraft, and romance from the recent and remote past. It means for Arlene to close her book and quench the candle to avoid the fire. Or make a spell to do the same. The Bible quote is used to introduce the candle, bell jar (candlestick) and box (bushel) and to set the stage for more Biblical references later. The fiery furnace reference is from the Bible and from Barton Fink 1991, a film she often mentioned. Bell is from the fire truck. The fire department is how we deal with Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace in the modern world. Bell, Book and Candle is the medieval spell to excommunicate Christians. It is used by modern witches to cast spells as in the Bell, Book and Candle play and film. Old and new language is mixed. The florid and formal with low register and the intimate. The formal language creates absurdity in a new colloquial setting of mistakes and an ambivalence toward Arlene. 'Lady...

I usually ignore my answering machine for hours, sometimes days, but when I heard, “It’s urgent,” I thought better. After all, it was kind of urgent the day she mentioned that her boyfriend of seven years had shot himself in the head.  This time it was two tickets at the Fox.  “Don’t you want to see Johnny Mathis?”  “No thanks.” “Come on,” she said. “I’m not in the mood.” “Please?” “Why did you wait to the last minute?” “Well . . . nobody else could go.” She needed someone to go with her since her brand-new car is, and always will be, asking for someone else to drive it. Of course, she’s blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other, especially when drinking. “Don’t you want to see Johnny again?” she said in her plaintive tone. “He is 80. I guess maybe I should before he doesn’t come back. I’ll drive.” “Do you have something really cute?” “Mm-hmm. Yeah, actually.” “A girl can never tell who she might run into downtown.  We need to hurry. Be over at my...

In a warm-lit St. Louis night, you drew me into a flame. Monday at BB's your loose-knit top stares me in the face: white-velvet, in a black-silk cage. I call for Monk and a tango. Catherine D. Snow comes up fast— You're hot, girlie! On an afternoon of morning, the dark is rising. Do you feel it? Here is your card, the Second Child, arranged in a sky of its own. He is the reason . Y ou’re tired. They’re here, it won’t be long.

The first stanza is really nice and a very solid image. In the second stanza, the images move quickly and become more personal. On the third stanza, the details about Arlene seem to center the poem and where it the poet is at his most confident. Some symbolism is presented to the reader, and life and death seem to be the likely code to decipher. It seems to parallel with the ‘The second Child/He's the reason’. Whatever the case, I feel a balance is trying to be played, between a personal observation and deeper philosophical insight. To thread these concepts together can be difficult I give credit to the poet for trying his hand at such a difficult endeavor.  —Kent Walker, my writing coach a. R ichard upon hearing of her death, suggested that Arlene was ‘a flame of exuberance’. A rlene’s voice struck some listeners as ‘unattractive’ or ‘pushy'.  So full of life, s he would burst out of her  skin. A force of nature, she had a joy in her, a love of life and the confidenc...