
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.
Great! Maximus of Gloucester comes roaring back.
Thanks for sharing. Love to read your work!
I love reading your work. I feel like I’m with you in your adventures.