Nanno's Last Recitation

Henry hadn’t sold a copy of “Mescaline Sombrero” On Amazon.  He felt successful in an anti-social way. 

Henry  on an old bus late at night going somewhere in Mexico.  To his wonder every seat occupied by howling witches with matted raven hair. Their evilness didn't come from covens or curses, it radiated from inside. 

In the morning the bus still on the way,  to Puerto Vallarta maybe. Henry opens the window for air and sees Hemingway passing the bus at break neck speed driving a Black Corvette as he waved a bottle of Mescal about wildly, looking as though he wanted to get there.

Hemingway in the end suicidal and empty,  Henry a blank page as well,  all glory would't bring them back. 

Henry's body hurt all the time,  never a break from the pain. The bus stopped for diesel fuel and Henry dropped a few Oxycontin, washing them down with Mescal.

Henry’s  lap-top an AK 47,  words as bullets,  it didn't feel safe as evil radiated from witches brew was leaching through,  a foul oder on the bus,  he would do anything to get a story out. 

Maybe it was the last exit,  Henry going  to the abandoned movie set of  “ The Night of the Iguana ,” Seaside on the coast of Puerta Vallarta.  He would find the terrace on which Nanno recited his last poem.  When the moon crossed overhead he would read Nanno's Poem to the night sky,  that would fix Henry all right. 

Nonno's Poem

How calmly does the olive branch 
Observe the sky begin to blanch 
Without a cry, without a prayer 
With no betrayal of despair 

Some time while light obscures the tree 
The zenith of its life will be 
Gone past forever 
And from thence 
A second history will commence 

A chronicle no longer gold 
A bargaining with mist and mold 
And finally the broken stem 
The plummeting to earth, and then 

And intercourse not well designed 
For beings of a golden kind 
Whose native green must arch above 
The earth's obscene corrupting love 

And still the ripe fruit and the branch 
Observe the sky begin to blanch 
Without a cry, without a prayer 
With no betrayal of despair 

Oh courage! Could you not as well 
Select a second place to dwell 
Not only in that golden tree 
But in the frightened heart of me

Nanno's Poem most likely written by Tennessee Williams.

No comments: