Davos and such ---A response poem written in Dew Drop Inn |
This month, in January, I could have been in Davos on the snow-covered terrain, watching smoke rise from the cabins; in Davos where the World Economic Forum went nowhere, despite the champagne and the red wine, and upbeat receptions, contrasting the battered markets and job losses with a collage of modern-material things. Instead, due to the usual hamstring pull of my wallet, I eat my meals with a discount card at Duffy's, a testing ground for a new trade concept, where TV screens feature thousands of runners and runners-up, where cleats and penalties lift superstars to their dreams, where the rules are fair and you can see the score. At Duffy's, Irene, the waitress on heavy legs, chokes on hoarse words, "Hello, my name is...Oh, it is you again!" And I question her about the menu, the pile of steamer clams at the seafood counter, her kids, her absent husband, the rent she can't pay. Then, comforted by the short exchange, we both shrug at our inane words, at the bills, at the procession of woes, and cheer like two Russians loving abundance and Vodka. ------------------------------------------------------------------- "Re: Response Poems..." in "Dew Drop Inn" |