Saturday, February 22, 2014

Saturday Morning Re-post: Cahuenga Dream

I drove down the 101 South this afternoon, got off the Cahuenga exit and crept through Hollywood. When Bob Marley came on, I was transported, as I nearly always am, to another life nearly thirty years ago. I was going to write it, the memory, the music, the sway, a porch, was it the beginning of spring, another college year? Tonight, bourbon in my throat, I searched for the words and typed a bit, knew it had come before and found this:

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Acupuncture Dream

On the way over, I knew already what I was going to think about when the needles were in, the door was shut and the music was on. I knew that I was going to go back to you, to a house on the side of a road, a wooden porch, a Carolina dusk of sticky left off soft, a folding chair with rusty legs, your worn khakis and the reggae sway as I pulled into the driveway. I knew I'd think of it as I drifted off, my channels open, your guitar put down as I leaped into your lap, my head thrown back where you kissed my neck, your wide smile, tilting.


  1. Lovely. Isn't it funny, when you start to write something and realize you've written it already?

    Re. my post today: I'm glad you know what I'm talking about re. the Chinese black chickens! I need to do some research on those! :)

  2. Ah for the days when we threw our heads back, leaving our necks open to be kissed with such abandon.

  3. The days when we leaped into laps...

    My God, this is so evocative, the memory of love's intoxication. It takes me back so intensely it makes me ache with sweet sadness.

    This is an exquisite poem.

  4. You writing is so wonderful, that sometimes it intoxicates. It is swoon worthy.



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