Dovina15 Mar 2005

That’s ok. I don’t expect everyone to relate events the way I do or remember traumas and pleasures so similar to mine that connections pop up spontaneously in the same way they do for me. Maybe the reason I write so many poems, and so many of them are not understood is that my history is more tangled in incongruities than most. It’s comments like yours that show me a need to get beyond the place of feeling a connection to the place where I can relate it someone of different background.

I was sitting at a bar one evening recently, the only customer in the place, while Sheala, the bartender, dealt me the comforting talk a bartender is supposed to. It’s her profession to serve wine and comfort, and she did it with the concern and dedication of a church pastor. The bar seemed like a pulpit in my youthful church, and the waiters setting tables in the adjoining restaurant seemed like the elders, admittedly a stretch. Watching over everything was Rose, the proprietor. There’s a deep connection between bar emotions and church emotions. Check it out sometime when you’re in either place.