{"id":1080,"date":"2013-07-15T19:01:00","date_gmt":"2013-07-15T19:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/?p=1080"},"modified":"2021-08-04T23:24:15","modified_gmt":"2021-08-04T23:24:15","slug":"love-letter-to-galileo-saturnalia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/2013\/07\/15\/love-letter-to-galileo-saturnalia\/","title":{"rendered":"Love Letter to Galileo: Saturnalia"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&#8212;<em>New Orleans, LA<\/em><\/p>\n<p>We spilled notes on bar napkins, novelists bussing away<br \/>our empty pint glasses, everyone waiting<br \/>for that moment when the frycook would bring his slide guitar<br \/>to the back bar, spit blues as the roosters begin their call.<br \/>We all have a story to tell. In the bar, we all felt like lovers,<br \/>thirteen couples dancing to the growls of Ukranian hooligans<br \/>with a fiddle and a bass. The band didn\u2019t play until a bottle of vodka<br \/>was passed up to the stage, until I held a stranger\u2019s waist<br \/>and waltzed across the dimlit dance floor. I know<br \/>the best breakfast special offered by a bar.<br \/>I know a great croissant place beside a strip club<br \/>where you can still hear the church bells ring.<br \/>On Bourbon once, I hugged a pole dancer and the glitter<br \/>spread across my chest for days. There is no escape<br \/>from the sparkle of the hours between midnight and dawn,<br \/>from swollen ankles. I pranced all around this city<br \/>and I still thought only of you. Signor, you are my glimmer.<\/p>\n\n\n<div style=\"height:100px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>Stacey Balkun<\/strong> is a New Jersey poet with her heart in the south. She was named an honorable mention in the Tupelo Press Spring 2011 Poetry Project. Her work has appeared in <em>INCH, The New Laurel Review, Paper &amp; The Sea, Hoot Review,<\/em> and in cookbooks and audio recordings across the country. She lives in California, where she explores the deserts, mountains, and lakes. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&#8212;New Orleans, LA We spilled notes on bar napkins, novelists bussing awayour empty pint glasses, everyone waitingfor that moment when the frycook would bring his slide guitarto the back bar, spit blues as the roosters begin their call.We all have<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":384,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[9926],"tags":[22201],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1080"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/384"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1080"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1080\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2076,"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1080\/revisions\/2076"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1080"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1080"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libblogs.luc.edu\/requited\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1080"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}