Long Sloan Poems
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On Halloween, beneath a crescent moon,
a dark-haired man, pale-faced, I chanced to see.
He danced with grace and beauty to each tune
the band was playing. Would he dance with me?
At last he asked me, “May I dance with you?”
On Halloween, beneath a crescent moon,
his breath was on my cheek. My passion grew.
Within his arms, I thought that I would swoon.
How beautiful he was! But all too soon
he left me, saying he would wait for me
on Halloween beneath a crescent moon,
beyond some trees in shadows he pointed to.
His first name, all I knew of him, was Sloan.
But past the trees I heard his sweet voice croon.
It led me where his name shone on a gravestone
on Halloween, beneath a crescent moon.
Written Oct. 18, 2016 for the May I Dance With You contest of Galeo DS
I took a hike
up passed the bougainvilleas
And up passed
This garden full of flowers I can’t name
And up near an area of flowers
That I can’t name
To find one flower by itself.
The vine or stem had crawled under a fence and scratched itself onto the blacktop road
Slowly
Giving petals time to unfurl into a flower
Before getting stepped on or hit by a car.
And it was enough time for an anxious bee
To get its ingredients.
Every time I watch my daughter put honey on her toast, I hope she’ll do it slowly and carefully by herself
Like that flower bloomed.
And I’m happy I know her name.
Sloan.
Off the train I hit the streets
and start laughing. This is ridiculous,
incomprehensible. How can innumerable bipeds
have individual inner lives. Why are they doing
what they’re doing? I have no answer
New York City but to also go about my business
in this case prepare for surgery, survival.
But why survive with so many exact replicas
to replace me? A swarm of ants or hive of bees,
social organisms they’re called, climbing
over each other, avoiding bumping and amazingly
making way, anticipating the sudden turns
and straight paths of others, strangers but brothers,
sisters incubating, the cells of a small
organ, nodes of a single semi-conscious organism.
The concept of a higher power that cares
for me is also risible yet how else
can I explain the surgeon and his team,
robots and magnetic resonance imaging machines,
all primed and trained to save my life.
They are not particularly interested in what
I do with my time. I am immediately
in love with the Irish brogue of the head nurse,
the Indian skin of the physician’s assistant.
The long extraordinarily thin
fingers of the famous surgeon. All
mine to savor (and the other cancer patients).
Despair, lose all hope
that’s what the sign says at the gates of hell
and at the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center the sign says
Be kind to our customers who are waiting and suffering.
Yesterday’s suicidal thoughts: the mind
is a clever servant, insufferable master. Therefore,
meditate on this: absolute need, dependence on the Other.
I still like Hombre, The Shootist and Ulzana’s Raid
but realize those dead heroes
were subordinate to society: the gun manufacturers who armed them.
Thus, I go for cancer tests, accepting, not predicting results.
Hero accepting help.
A torrential rain following five days of flooding,
tornadoes out west busting up wooden towns
all because too many of us are hoarding plastic, herding electrons.
None of us know how it will end, what the outcome will be
(of our surgery). The best that can be said is
Don’t forget to breathe. And you might
as well believe in that higher power.
Samantha Sloan is sophisticated and somewhat successful
Surprisingly, she struggles when situations seem stressful
So, she saw a syndrome specialist, Dr. Sabrina Shortcakes.
She simply suggested sipping succulent strawberry shakes.
Samantha found serenity while slurping such syrupy sweets
Surrendering to slumber, she slept on scented silk sheets
Spent all her savings, but she's safe and spiritually secured
sailing the Sea of Serendipity, stress free and self-assured
Soothed by spectacular sunsets, Samantha secretly smiles
Searching for a special someone on sultry South Sea isles.
December 16, 2020
Alliteration contest, sponsored by Eve Roper