New Hampshire Bars in the Seventies

I.

it’s a three mile walk,
one way,
from New Market to
Durham,
a walk I made four times one
week-end before
I moved into
‘Above the Inferno, New
Market, New Hampshire,’
the address she would
take, because it sounded right,
finding she and I had rented the same
room before we knew each other,
before we lived
together for twenty three years,
so yes I know the walk –
New Market to Durham,
and back again
in 1971 ho.

II.

it was in the Down Under
in Durham
where a Marine challenged me
for offending his wife
by handing her a copy of
‘Motherfuckers’ Kitchen Recipes’
and my pacifist friend,
who’d been cashiered out
of the army in Viet Nam
after he'd taken a dozen beatings
from his fellow soldiers,
not lifting a hand to defend himself,
my pacifist friend who would not defend
himself stepped in
to protect me
from a man with ninety-seven kills.
I learned what my life
was worth that day:
someone else’s principles.

Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 05/17/2009 02:38PM by petersz.

Now, this is, indeed, poignant, Peter. You say much here. I really appreciate reading this and the second part speaks of something that is particularly understood.

Mary

I think you have a typo in ii L13, the "r" in friend.

A good read Peter, I enjoyed these two.

Les

Mary,

Thanks for catching the typo. Also, I'm glad we made the connection.

Les,

Thanks for commenting Your frequent support of all of us is really important for each of us.

amo,

Peter

Peter, I only wish that I could read longer online, my faulty vision does not allow me to stay online as long as I would like. Hence, I seldom have the ability to read multiple posts, which bothers me probably more than it does the posters.

I find the fact that you are able to share intimate stories from your past, much as Terry does, brings credibility and a sense of empathy to us readers.

Les