Garfield Place Poem by David McLansky

....
With your auburn hair....

Braided down your back....

With your Vedic pose....

Your shoulders drooping slack, ....

With your up-turned palms....

Your knees about to crack; ¨....

How could I not love you; ....

........

With your weary eyes....

And your Indian skirt....

With your Mexican blouse....

And your army shirt, ....

With your silver rings....

And your thighs so alert; ....

How could I resist you? ....

........

Sad-eyed lady of Garfield Place, ....

Bohemian Maiden with the sad eyed face, ....

With your Spanish earrings of silvered lace, ¨....

Shall I join you on your rug? ....

Do I need to smoke your drug? ....

........

With your African stew bubbling on the stove, ....

With your sandled feet and your painted toes, ....

With your boiling rice and your scent of Ceylon cloves; ....

How could I not choose you? ....

Sad eyed lady, how could I lose you? ....

........

With your books on Art....

Scattered on the floor, ....

With your exotic fruit from an Arabian store, ....

With your frightened heart, ....

With your Druid lore, ....

How could I not love you? ....



With your brownstone frame

With its backyard garden scene,

With its red infected brick

Rained and stained with sheen,

With your ivy tendrils

Glowing dark and green,

How could I deny you,

Sad eyed Lady

Could I defy you?



........

With your bobbing nod to Bob Dylan songs, ....

With your far away stare, deep and prolonged....

With your lost, lonely air, to whom did you belong? ....

How could I not be mesmerized by you....

........

Sad eyed Lady fill my plate, ....

Sad eyed lady, on our first date....

....

With your dancer's legs....

And your leather wrap, ....

With your beaded chains....

And your tight bra strap, ....

With your cold hard breasts....

And your skirt with button snaps, ....

How could I make love to you? ....

Sad eyed lady on her back, ....

I smashed a cup and broke your trap

....

....

....

....

....

....

....

With your braided hair

Running down your back

With your Vedic pose

Your shoulders hunched and slack,

With your up-turned palms

Your knees about to crack;
How could I not love you;

....

With your weary eyes

And your Indian skirt

With your Mexican blouse

And your army shirt,

With your silver rings

And your thighs so alert;

Who was I tp resist you?

....

Sad-eyed lady of Garfield Place,

Bohemian Maiden with the sad eyed face,

With your Spanish earrings of silvered lace,
Shall I join you on your rug?

Do I need to smoke your drug?

....

With your African stew bubbling on the stove,

With your sandled feet and your painted toes,

With your boiling rice and your scent of garlic cloves;

How could I not choose you?

Sad eyed lady, how could I lose you?

....

With your books on Art

Scattered on the floor,

With your exotic fruit split to the core,

With your frightened heart,

With your Druid lore,

How could I not love you?

....

With your bobbing nod to Bob Dylan songs,

With your far away stare, deep and prolonged

With your lost, lonely air, to whom did you belong?

How could I not be mesmerized by you

....

Sad eyed Lady fill my plate,

Sad eyed lady, our first dat