Gerard Sarnat : Lunacy : January 2020

Southern Legitimacy Statement: Gerry who’s worked as a healthcare consultant in Nashville, partied with relatives living in Greensboro and stayed awhile in Sunflower County, Mississippi.

Lunacy

1. VARIATIONS ON SHRINK  [3]

i.Cut And Dried Martinized Lingo?

 

One school of talk therapy

Uses a few covert codes

(Often overthought)

About I and Thou

Lock plus keys

That will vary

From Linear 

For normal

Speaking

Patterns

   

To Loose,

Buberish*,

Tangential, 

Overwrought,

Disorganized, 

Circumstantial 

That do produce

Worthier poetry than I 

Unless so very Paranoid

Cannot write words down.

*https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/05/06/modernity-faith-and-martin-buber

 

ii. Shrinkology

After nada pre-med

because I “only” wanna 

to be a psychiatrist

which back then had

but little to do with

hardcore science stuff

instead I decided 

to be an internist who

then dissed mental

health workers as soft

in the head, too

many of ‘em choosing

that field to work

out their own issues –

particularly if had

stronger IQ’s than EQ

social skills nice

for advising patients.

However, since 

a daughter trained as

an MD running

hospital Psych ERs,

it behooved me

to change my tune.

iii. “Momusic” Class       

                                               

is is what sexist 

toddler session’s

called — apparently

after two decades

ain’t by accident

— since all adults

each time I am

there are Y gene

deficient except

for Ger where 

next youngest 

grown-up looks

~ half my mid-

septuagenarian 

stage & she’s only

other grandparent

thus way nimbler

dancing, rolling

swaying which

with positional

vertigo causes me

bit of difficulty

functioning fully

but still Coachie

can make Liavy

proud belting out

Scarborough Fair

+ waving tie-dye

flags & giraffes to 

Twist and Shout.

Post belly stamps,

when we’re done

one nanny takes pity 

on GOMER, shares

peanut butter snacks 

(I offer her charge

shelled pistachios/

a nutritious pouch)

 

as exhausted pouty

kids slouch during

which my boychick

stares at stroller pushed 

by ?Mother containing 

somebody peeking out

with Progeria disease                                

that ages prematurely, 

a bald, shrunk wrinkled 

infant won’t live long: 

 

both children point,

What’s wrong? as 

we caregivers try 

real hard to change 

subjects singing

another few songs.

After Liav’s strapped 

in car-seat, I dodge

further questions

by distracting him

“Aunt Julia/Uncle Eli

are getting a baby!” 

so oy 6 of 6 1st cousins

will be males – seems in

our extended fam having

both X & Y chromosomes

to escalate from a boy’s

basketball toward baseball 

team may be autosomal

dominant product of 

your ancestral gene pool 

as it surely is for doomed 

cripple in carriage as 

I hear someone whisper

something about poor

tiny Benjamin Button.

2.  SHORT-SHORTS BY THE SHORT HAIRS

i. Dead Of Night

Thanks to Joyce Carol Oates

Heart attack

Terrible terror 

Stuck under

Tongue like

My nitro pill.

ii. Understand The Moment haiku

These days I sleep like 

a baby, waking every 

few hours crying.

 

 

3. Pacific Pisces Story 

Week after Labor Day,

striding along ocean to 

Redondo Beach Pier,

I’ll turn 73 tomorrow

so treat myself extra

special well, spring for

September’s Lobster 

FEST bisque + ceviche

& Hawaiian Opakapaka 

we once saw SCUBA 

diving although that one

was truly humungous.

The pleasant man who ?up

sold me to pay $19.99/ lb.

is a member of our local

fishmonger cooperative

which never laid anyone

off during 2008’s Great

Recession tourist crisis.

Angel assuaged Ger’s guilt

shelling out so much dough

at this generally reasonable

open-air seafood market

by relating how he bought

(50% employee discount)

the same whole fresh fish 

just shipped in yesterday 

then descaled gutted broiled 

precisely like h had prepared 

mine to impress almost-fiancé

with fabuloso to the max result

thusly my mate would similarly 

not be little bittiest disappointed 

even though she’d sent me for

cheaper scrumptious snapper.

40 minutes $83.41 pre-tip later, 

while I finish scribbling this 

missive’s half-baked scrod 

screed’s narrow paragraph 

columns on 3 paper napkins 

with ballpoint I eyed Angel

tossed in since not too smart 

phone’d run outa charge just

after shooting pics to reassure

half-century wife but before I

jot words, the toast-shaped LRS’s 

lights/buzzer went bonkers berserk

signaling griddle’s funky reeking 

goodies bag (4 corn on cob, bunch

butter pads/ sliced lemon, enough 

plastic utensils/Styrofoam to serve 

downscale dinner party thrown in) 

is ready to return to waterfront

condo where I anticipate being

heatedly grilled by fishy spouse.