Of course I’ll have the birthday cake, observe
Its boundaries, that the world is round, and the ovum.
Of course I’ll take a place at the uncomfortable table,
Imagine the slice of cake is my portion of island
And no mortgages anymore are paid, the sun is
Free, and my Frederik Pohl (with Theodore Sturgeon. Long may
They live again—-Fred and Ted) have finished designing his, their
House for me there so I may have my indoor waterfall and indoor
Changing place bathed by five directions of sunlight too.
No, books cannot be written there—-this a house for play
And moonlight arguments, you who would ride a horse on the strand—
But I know better, someone young and beautiful is there
Who’d serve the cake when I am gone? Someone
So beautiful and thinly desirous every piece of fabric could be wrapped
Around her in sash.
So—–the young men come wearing boots of
Burgundy for no reason other than old women prefer this
Color, meaning old women are bound to be less suspicious of
His presence around the young woman dark-haired beautiful, if his
Boots are burgundy, if all cakes are delicious even if kept
In freezers, if the volume I needed Georgia O’Keefe’s assistant
To write about me has never been written, nor will be–
I lived too small, fiddling with bright boats, with pretend, when
Real ones—not du Maurier’s—-
Would have done.
Daughter and wife of journalists, Rebecca Pyle was named for a character and a novel and a film (Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier; film by Hitchcock). She graduated from the University of Kansas the Wizard of Oz came from and adored, taking three first prizes in writing, the Carruth, the Whitcomb, and the Wolfe—with her. She is still looking for the shoes. Rebecca lives in Utah, near the Great Salt Lake, and has been published lately as an author or artist (or both) in journals such as Underwater New York, Wisconsin Review, New England Review, Indian Review, Taj Mahal Review, The Bangalore Review, and The Remembered Arts Journal.
Her art website: rebeccapyleartist.com.