The Literary Life: NYC 1982
I recall distinctly
The famous author
Standing over me
As I scraped the plaster
Off her bathroom floor
Left behind by
Workers renovating
The building
The first time I talked to her
She called me up
To express her
Indignation
About the bathroom
I felt I’d done
Something wrong
Like I was in trouble
With my mother
Like I’d messed up
My chores
Or something
So I hurried on up
To her apartment
And met the famous author
All apologies
I got my little bucket
And paint scraper
And she showed me in
And pointed down at
The white spots on
The tile floor
*
The real estate company
Manager had told me
That her latest novel
Was being turned into
A mini-series about
Rich girls at a boarding school
OK, I said, and shrugged
*
She watched me as I
Scrubbed and scraped
She’d written a book
On bathroom decoration
She said, This mess
Is completely unacceptable.
Her husband she told me
Was so and so
The owner of kitchen and
Bathroom stores
In London
One thing I’d learned
Growing up was
Don’t talk back to
The woman in charge
Be a good boy
Don’t fuck around
That’s the lesson for
Workers and
Poets
It’s OK to look up
And smile every
Once in a while
Otherwise
Eyes down
Keep on scraping
*
The Keshcarrigan
Bookshop was right down
Warren Street on
West Broadway
The owner was
A friendly person
With a lyrical Irish
Accent
She’d smile when
I walked in
Sometimes she’d let me be
Sometimes she’d
Make conversation and talk
About books
And authors
In her tidy shop I felt
Removed from the crazy
City just to be there
In the quiet with
The second-hand and
New books
The sunlight and
Shadows on the floor
I bought a Frank O’Connor
Collection
TRAVELLER’S SAMPLES
I bought THE COLLECTED
WORKS OF JOHN
MILLINGTON SYNGE
I’d linger looking
Through this book
Or that
And what do you do?
She asked me one day
I’m a Super up the street
at 258 Broadway
on the park.
Yes, or course, she said, But
Do you write,
Are you a writer, as well?
I hesitated, but then
I told her, Yeah,
Here and there.
Well, isn’t that
Wonderful?
I don’t know if it is.
And what is it you’re
Working on?
I’m... I’m working
On a novel.
Are you? she said
And then
She said maybe the
Kindest thing anyone
Has ever said to me,
Well, aren’t you brave!
*
I guess you could
Take that different ways
But for a few minutes
There
Stepping back out
Into the city everything
Seemed pretty good
The streets crowded with
Commuters hurrying
For the subway
And me going
The other way
The cars
Honking and jockeying
For position to be first
To the tunnels and the red
Sunset between the buildings
Down by the river and
Walking just to walk
And looking up
The shadow of
The World Trade Center
One on the other
And a few clouds
Colored by the sunset
Moving above
Fielding Dawson at the Ear Inn
I had a professor who called him Fielding Grounders
But another one
Who was gay
loved him
and loved all the
Black Mountain and related
writers
I got a ride down to the city
with my gay professor
And we had a
Good chat
About art and writing
And so on
he told me about
going to the bath
houses and
wanting to
prostitute himself
just to try it
I asked him
why do you think
heterosexuals
don't have bath houses
and he said
laughing
you people got to get your
shit together
He took me to meet
Fielding Dawson
We had to wait
until he finished his
shift working
As a sales clerk
at a department
store
Then we sat around
his apartment
talking about
Charles Olson
and Edward Dorn
and Franz Kline
I remember Fielding
Saying sometimes
James Joyce was
“A little too cute”
Outside of walking around Gloucester looking for Olson's house
eating a hot dog
on a street corner
with Fielding Dawson
is about as close as
I'll get to that part
of literary America
But I also went to
Fielding Dawson's
reading at the
Ear Inn
where the guy
who introduced him
said
"America has produced two great writers of
fiction. William Faulkner and Fielding Dawson!" The small crowd
in attendance clapped
politely
And I opened my
signed copy of
Krazy Kat and
76 More
to read along
as best I
could
Of course Fielding
has disappeared from
the literary landscape
(as do most authors)
searching my library system's 52 libraries
there is not a single title by the
writer
Faulkner
on the other hand
is doing ok
for now
***
Dan Hubbs worked as a building super at 258 Broadway in the early 80's while taking a few lit grad courses at NYU. He's an old-time style banjo player and song writer. You can see a recent Caffe Lena show with his band Banjo Varient on YouTube. He received a grant to publish a book of narrative poems and song lyrics in 2021. The book, Downtown Super Tells All, is available at Amazon, etc.
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Thanks for sharing. Love to read your work!
I love reading your work. I feel like I’m with you in your adventures.