Elinor Nauen

High in November

Cheery as a lamb

Johnny toddles by & tousles my hair.

… & I'm back in my first months in NY, my empty apartment

(now with so much art & books & breathing) —

the light fixture I thought was a gas outlet:

scared to touch it, I didn't see my walls for years.

One Fourth of July, Brodey sat on the middle part of an aqua sectional couch—

the only piece I had—

grilling over his shoulder on the fire escape

in the hibachi he'd brought.

Later I pushed that couch out the window.

I found broken glass

in a jar of bouillon powder

& the company by way of apology

sent me a case of caviar.

I opened my tenement icebox one day

to nothing but caviar & decided to throw a cocktail party.

I bought a blender

& made a drink of honeydew melon & vodka.

 
I eat cookies with specks of salt

& kiss Johnny on his way to lie down & watch

something that makes him laugh.

I look at Biala's flowers every day

& every day I'm abashed to see them.

 
Just like Ollie, my 40-years-older boyfriend

who I loved so much,

I managed to get old

being the same old fucked-up me.

We got the sign made in 1983 in Ocean City, Maryland. It came down when they put up a new door & Keith (pictured), who takes care of things & works in the store downstairs, glued it back up a day or 2 ago. People sometimes stop me coming out of the building: "Did Pound live here?!" I don't tell them the real reason for the sign. We would see all those buildings with their fancy-ass names: The Van Gogh, The Dakota, The San Remo. Why shouldn't we have a name, we thought, & why shouldn't we be able to say we live at the pound. 

 

Note: I forgot to write in advance that I'd be off 2 days for Passover. Not that it's over. Just 5 more days of the holiday of affliction.

I moved into the Ezra Pound the same month Jimmy Carter was inaugurated & am now the person who has lived there the longest. It was easy to get an apartment & cheap. I don't know where people on SSI live these days but back then Bobby & Lucky, who were a couple, had their own adjacent apartments. I asked Lucky once how he got that nickname. It wasn't enough that his real name was Homer, I must have figured. He lit up: I really am lucky, he said. I have enough to feed my pets, & I hardly ever need to borrow more than $20 to get through the month.