F455i SESSION 01

9’s poem

Memory Blocks

Block #1 

Home since I was three
Dancing to the sounds of transistor radios in the guise of Pepsi cans
Stoop sitting with girlfriends in the heat
            Sustaining ourselves with Doritos and coke
                 Ogling Joey
                         humming to his music
                                    Betcha by Golly Wow
Finding a lakeside retreat for my Barbie in the thick roots of Lucy’s tree
Daylight hours filled with chases and fistfights and stick ball
Roller skates on freshly tarred streets and
            My gold-glittered, banana-seat bike made me magic
Nights of round up, sweat and dirt
Climbing fences and garage roofs 
Block parties with running races, and dancing
            Back again to repeat as a parent

Block # 2 

Grandma Coyle 
Dad’s home, 3 blocks away
Sunday dinners with pink castles       
            Stored in the musty cabinet
Aunt Elizabeth in the front room, lost in time
Grandma’s piano transforming every tune into ragtime
Grandma’s laugh, Grandma’s smile
Grilled cheese pizzas and chicken soup
Uncle John in the basement lost in “the drink” 
And the eyes of the blue-eyed Jesus always following me across the room

Block # 3 Treeless

Grandma Lynch
Mom’s home, 4 blocks away
Love and beer and money hidden in the pickled pig’s feet
Grandpa dying in his bed
Hot summer nights with the Honeymooners and boxing matches 
Everybody’s talking ‘bout me. Don’t hear a word they’re sayin…
            …I’m goin’ where the sun keeps shining through the pouring rain
My cousins a few doors down

Grandpa burning my hand with a hot teaspoon. Why was that funny?
Grandma’s clean laundry hanging over the fire escape, making sure it was fit for the neighbors
            “They talk. Don’t give them anything to talk about” 
Grandma keeping me safe, always. 

Block #4

School, 3 blocks away 
Taken by a fifth grader each day until I was old enough to go alone as a fourth grader
Plaid skirt, forgotten tie, sometimes forgotten PJ’s underneath
Forgotten pencil case, forgotten times table
But Jane and John and Spot led me to Little Women and The Sword of the Samurai
And Little Women and The Sword of the Samurai 
            and all the other books I took from the musty library 
                        made it just fine that I didn’t understand how to diagram a sentence
                                    still don’t
A talent for drawing gave me and my teacher a way out
            I could decorate for Thanksgiving, sitting on the windowsill and still listen to the lesson
Being invisible came in handy…at times
But the times when I knew…hand raised towards the tin ceiling
            ooh, ooh, ooh Call on me! 
                        Only the boys were seen

Block #5 

Paul’s block
A meeting on the way to a hated job
Another meeting on the way to a better job
            With a story about where this job was 
Made it possible for a meeting after work
            And another, and another
Paul’s block
            only three blocks away from home soon became my retreat 
            And then my second home 
We shared the dark apartment and fell in love 
One flight down
            The light filled apartment became our second home together
Jill was born in the light-filled apartment with Joanie and Ed above and Eddie and Lisa below
Built in baby sitters

Block #6

A big leap, but short-lived
Over a mile away from all my other blocks
An elevator to the 7th floor 
And space for Jill and soon, Michael
            a shared room off the kitchen
            with hand-painted flowers on the wall and a baby jumper in the door frame
A new carpet and an entry with room for a dining table
Lost Barbie shoes and meltdowns
A playground down the block under the exit ramp from the bridge
            Became a skating rink for weeks after a freak ice storm
My fears of the diminishing ozone layer 
             now accompanied by the creeping knowledge of a changing climate
And my two children are all I think about

Block #7

Back to the first block
            My first home of memories
In my Aunt Nellie’s apartment above my parents
            Now Grandma and Grandpa to Jill and Michael 
                        Built-in babysitters and memory keepers 
                                    and allies when parents don’t quite get it
7 rooms with a bedroom for everyone
Back to the first block
            now as a parent 
To sit on the stoop and watch my children
            And the children of my first friends 
                        Run and dance and fight and climb and grow 
Back to the first block 
            To suddenly lose my mother and watch my father age without her
Back to the first block 
            To watch myself and Paul age 
Even more worried about the changing climate 
My two children and their future children are all I think about 

Block #8

My studio 
9 blocks away 
A place for me
A place to make a stand 
A place to gather
A place for community
A place to process 
            Our changing world 
A place for ideas
A place to at least try something 
            anything

Blocks 1 through 8

Now I walk under the 8 phases of the moon
Within the limits of 8 blocks
that hold my memories 
I still have the moon
With each loss
            a person, a pet, a lifestyle, a false history, a youthful body
I still have the moon 
And these memories and these people speak through her
Reminding me of how small I am 
And how beautiful this world is
And how lucky I have been