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Saturday, February 11, 2012

The Gypsy U

From the vast midwest,
Came one thought I loved best,
Without explanation, without occasion,
Sent a U . . . through postal invasion.
All was said and done, and lost
Though I tried, I got tossed!

In what way was this too true.
Was Y  the reason our love fell through?
Names? Just three,
All gave me a U, one sent a Z.
Of the other two, one gave a Y,
The last, a B, remade my life,

The second U came from old Japan.
Shall I mention she gave a Z, then ran?
We prowled New York, just her and me,
Who is she . . .  I'll not tell U !
We searched Kyoto through, ate fine sushi.
Her letters read - 'Dōmo arigatō! Oishii!'
Then she fled, not to Tokyo,
But to Italy, . . . to Milan-o.

Two letters later, U and B,
Given by my Kabbalah lady.
I met her in Brooklyn years ago,
Her husband then was awfully shady.
They lived in a Jersey city, though.

23 equals U plus B,
What's this got to do with me?
Or for a girl from a forest town -
It's true you've grown. your age was 23,
I've since drunk your letters, drank them down.

I gave an Aleph, made my ageless bed,
The trouble and strife got previously wed.
Oxen gifts, a bear for boons,
Interpretations, made anew.

U-Boat 23, about 1917,
Sank 52 ships, herself went down.
UB's a postal code, of old London,
Southall, Ealing, and Hillingdon.
Biscuits, breweries, universities,
Belgrade and Basrah drink Burgundy.
Could UB stand for Mongolia?
Ulan Battor in Asia? Maybe?

I read your letters every day,
You'll return to me, don't say no, 
Say someday!

Belgrade?, . . . . through Serbia flows the Ub
Gosh my gypsy's got wandering curls.
With Roma eyes bright, not fair,
So have gone, to play guitar.
Know I'll love her from time afar,
The question's not when, but where.





















NAMA - Marsyas 2007

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