Monday, August 10, 2009

BAWNANA

BAWNANA

When I wrote the word banana,
I heard it, not in my own voice,
but in the voice of my girlhood friend's father.
He'd drawl: bawnanah. He was from Jersey
(as in the Isle of—not the Jersey Shore).
Pat Wall sold the family farm and arrived here
by way of the Big Apple—and he marveled at it all.
A failed farmer and artist who never even tried to paint,
he opened the first modern art gallery on the West Coast,
in Carmel-by-the-Sea. He was a friend to Steinbeck,
Miller, and Doc RIcketts. The art openings lasted 'til dawn,
with patrons slipping a little something into the punchbowl.
Then staggering home for brekkies of bawnanah and milk
to combat the colossal group hangover, I assume.

8/10/09

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