My KURT VONNEGUT Dream Inspired By Rocky Road

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I needed a long walk after eating two gallons

of Rocky Road ice cream

in three days.

It was October and the 1971World Series

scooped it into my face

(between barbecued hot dogs)

So I walked and walked

and forgot to sleep or eat.

 

I walked 

all the way from Long Island

to Indiana.

 When I got there

all I wanted was a cigaret

and a familiar face

offered me a Pall Mall.

I thanked him profusely

and told him  Pall Mall

was my Father's brand.

 

He said "I knew that"

and he also knew my Mother

smoked filtered Tareyton.

 

But the first words I spoke

to Kurt Vonnegut

—pointing to the shrubbery—

were Those are not Begonias

 

"That is correct, young man.

You sound like an almost intelligent person."

He lit my Pall Mall and let 1001 words

flow from my well-walked body.

I didn't mention Rocky Road ice cream

but all I talked about was

Rocky Point and Uncle Paul

and Aunt Pauline.

They lived on Begonia Road

but their driveway was flanked by

Hydrangeas of various hue

and the dinner they served

was what patrons of their 

Manhattan restaurant

paid beaucoup bucks

to their endless delight.

I'll never forget those 

mega-magnificent Italian meals

and the football games my cousins

 —post-pasta—

played in a huge yard 

with my sister Lynda

always being the winning quarterback.

—For the next fifty years—

every time I saw Hydrangeas

I thought of Begonia Road

in Rocky Point

and the bounty of those

special Sundays

beatified by

Paul and Pauline Nunzio.

 

"Paul, you are about to awaken 

and I am about to fall deep asleep."

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