Somewhere in Virginia...

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This is from  Mr. Click

In her sister's house, there are miniature horses
in bronze, in silver, in absentia 
because Linda died
in 1975.

Her brother got the occasional $20 bill
smuggled into an article of clothing
because our father would explain
to the drinking crowd at
Rockefeller Center that
his little boy had
a paper route.

The little boy
was saving money
so that someday he would
be able to attend an Ivy League college.


In fact, in 1957...
My father was mythologizing while mixologizing
and I was much more interested in going to the Polo Grounds
to see Willie Mays play baseball  than going to Hardvard
to learn that is not how you spell it!

However, the tips provided by the likes of Howard Cosell,

Johnny Carson, Eleanor Roosevelt and all the other

patrons who frequented the English Grill

were immediately converted to horseplay:

He would go to the most select gift shops
beneath the world famous skating rink
and buy miniature horses and
horse trinkets because his
dutiful and beautiful
daughter loved
such things.

She had so much fun
on that rink: pirouetting,
speed circling, and one-footing.
But she always came to my rescue when I would fall on my ass.

 The next Linda page is  here.

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