I was cleaning out my office when I found it. A purse-sized spiral notebook full of doodles from my past. Phone numbers, hurried math. Ideas I didn’t want to lose. And two poems. Or maybe one. It depends on how you read it.
This notebook dated from our last international trip, in 2019. That’s pre-COVID. In 1989, I lived in London and taught in Syracuse University’s London Program. Phil and I revisited some beloved places from my past. I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t remember what we saw on the West End. But we went to the theatre. I was obviously struck by the banter. I did some eavesdropping, writing down turns of phrase that sounded like poetry to me. Here they are, in my own sloppy script.
Mary Louise Hill 