Lapis by Kevin Walsh
Missed Connections in Las Vegas
Lapis Lazuli Skies
in my desert garden the arid winds blow
whirly sandstorms that put dreadlocks on my dolls
who distract me until my true love comes
to explain our project of the day
and i am struck dumb by his passion bent
for mischief, my freckle faced Hermes who
tells me i am Aphrodite
as he teaches me of heathen roman gods and a little hurt,
i say i want to be Iris, the beloved sister of the
Messenger god
After the sand devils leave we go out to the water tower
And the sky is dark from a locust swarm
he runs home and comes back with charcoal BBQ lighter
And the locusts explode when doused and lit
I said why, though…
Why are you killing them
They are dying, that’s why they fall
Like rain
He goes home and pours the rest of the fuel
Over the paper Parthenon he has meticulously
Spent time away from me to build…
Brings it to me in excitement I can’t understand,
telling me about a small man called Nero,
who was the same as Napoleon;
I only knew of Napoleon ice cream?
no, no, these are men from ancient times who burned down Rome.
we are going to burn this symbolic paper Parthenon!
as I struggled to absorb this thinking
a tear rolls down my cheek while I watch it burn,
I protest in confusion
While he watches me.
And for a moment our love is precarious, our first disagreement.
I distance myself and try to burn one of the giant gold grasshoppers for added perversion
Until gently my love explains it won’t light without fuel…
He brings the chairs and telescope now,
in my desert we sit until dawn
side by side in folding beach chairs
of which i endlessly twine my small fingers
into the thick woven plastic tubing while my
flaxen blonde boyfriend Mercury tutors me the
constellations in my Mesopotamian sky with his
torturous telescope that dizzies me
i’d rather look at him in case he gets an urge to kiss
finally i tire of astronomy and my love tires of pointing and explaining
and we sit silently facing the slowly awakening lapis lazuli desert sky and my Mercury,
my only love surprises me just as i gave up hope and gently holds my hand
and i secretly wished that time would freeze because
he was my love and even though my hand got all sweaty and we let go because my mom called me in,
now i thought
he is fully
Truly
mine.
~ Susie Hewitt, that crazy Las Vegas poet
Her Two Cents
A day spent with a heart’s true love will always be prized for the intense color it leaves on our memory. Polished to a sheen or rough-hewn, these precious moments, like mystical ancient stones, take on mythical proportions and turn the seemingly ordinary into something almost other-worldly. In the story of your heart, which Gods and Goddesses are in residence?
