Yes | Gary Glauber
When I finished the large tome,
I felt proud.
I had toughed it out,
and even though I felt
I probably was only getting
a small percentage of the author’s
inside jokes and allusions,
I still felt a sense
of huge accomplishment.
Sure there was the accompanying guide
by the celebrated scholar
who assured me it all matched up
to Greek mythology, quite precisely,
chapter by chapter,
and I had no reason to doubt it.
That helped some,
but the real pleasure was
in completion
not comprehension.
I was an innocent then,
a cocooned pest
eager to emerge changed
with a writer’s wings
and a bold new attitude.
I was well into my year abroad,
living in London,
writing, reading,
attending plays on the cheap.
Shopping second-hand stalls
at Portobello, scrounging by
like some self-fashioned
rag and bone Fitzgerald,
chasing the spiciest curries
when not in search of romance.
I rose from my park bench
taking in the sunshine
somewhere in the northern end
of the wild heath, knowing
the vagaries of spring
might bring unannounced change.
The bird chirps were the
symphony of creative destiny.
I wandered through the deep woods
unaware that Karl Marx and family
once did the same,
finding easy solace
in nature’s budding pageantry.
My head was filled with
a complex mosaic of words,
imagining myself strolling
along the Liffey, episodic
challenges at every turn.
I kept walking.
A few turns later,
one path lead me away
from the heath’s
frolicking squirrels
to more urban surroundings
of a local newsagent’s.
It was nice to be back
in civilization proper.
The shopkeeper was a
chatty older gent who
inquired about my day.
I told him the source
of my beaming pride,
how I had conquered
the final 45 pages’
stream of consciousness,
no easy task, and had
finished the classic at last.
“First time?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I told him.
“Well, that is magical,” he said.
“A feat deserving reward.”
He steered me toward the
row of Cadbury delectables,
and urged me to pick one out.
I did and then offered to pay.
He wanted none of it.
“This one’s on me,” he said.
“From one reader to another.”
Only in London, I thought.
“Please accept this gift,” he said.
“Yes I said yes I will yes.”