The sound of the cistern is scary.

The scary cistern;

Cistercian

Monks

Are calling me.

 

Shakespeare

The immortal

Bard

is listening.

 

As I breathe

AS I sneak a peak

At the adults

Playing Kalookie.

 

I remember

Harry Dawn,

Red-cheeked neighbour

Walking, Saturday to shul.

 

There he died.

His daughter

Now living

In Bermuda.

 

These are

Sporadic

Recollections

Of the 70’s.

 

Everything

Brought into focus

By Rami Malek

As Freddie Mercury.

 

And,

Queen ballads

Waltzing though my

Consciousness.

 

Harry’s wife, Betty,

Exponent of Yoga

Would smoke

One Lambert & Butler after another.*

 

And their house

The smell

Of the era,

Embrocated with pink stuffiness.

 

All

a reticulate mess

of

Memory.

*God only knows what they did behind locked doors.