Saturday, August 6, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook: 125



Hawk Season Notebook # 125

Exceptionally glamorous women at a Sunday morning Sixties museum... a sunlit semicircle... an outdoor charity art fair. Paintings of barns, homage to Monet, horses at ponds. The women (Junior Leaguers) were giggles and smirks, buzzed-in on caffeine. The girl at your side was in silver lingerie with a black velvet cape. No discomfort. Your vocabulary was in the future. It was summer. Perhaps you were briefly married. Fired from every job. The sinuous girl at your side was in candy-colored short-shorts, aqua bikini top.  It was a small town museum... hawk desert all around. It was a summer morning and there was fresh ink in your notebook. You were reading Trakl and Catullus. The girl at your side was on the boundary between good friend and overlooked loved. She said, I can work with it... formal or... personal. It was a summer morning and you were cowboy-backlash at a museum... big Stetson... and beyond serious consideration by older beautiful women. The girl beside you said she liked dark and funny... and intimate. You reckoned you had everything.

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