The New York Times Interview With Ms Ocean

A mermaid in a cab delivered her note, handwritten in wavering purple ink.
She chose a secret location on Long Island at midnight.
Strictly no pictures, no questions and I must come alone.
She said she admired my honesty and the scoop on Leonard Cohen.

The tide was out, the mist was in and it looked like a no show
when suddenly she appeared by the rocks, lapping quietly at my feet.
She wore a blue mac. A fedora pooled shadows over her eyes.
Such an honor to meet you, I began. Thanks for letting me tell your story.

This is not about me, well not much, she said.
Her voice rippled and skipped through the dark.
It’s about you guys. My warnings
aren’t getting through, not

even the tsunami of 04. You morons
have short memories and no understanding
of omens. We don’t know where we went wrong, me
and Neptune. We were good parents. Fuck knows

we tried our best. Ever since you crawled
onto dry land you’ve lost your way.
What do you mean exactly?
I asked.
I told you no questions, she replied and a cold wave rose up and slapped me in the face.

We sent clear signs, reminders every day. It’s hard work
maintaining the tides, the rhythm, all that pulling
and pushing to teach you the value of self-discipline, of balance
and how to give and take. We’re sick

of your abuse and the shit you dump in the water. I could
go on and on but I’m not here to give another
lecture cos the truth is, you’re screwed. No,
I’m here to tell you I’m quitting. 

Neptune hitched a ride to Andromeda
five years ago. He sent a postcard last month
and says he’s doing swell. I stayed behind, hoping
for change but now your time is up. There’ll be no

more marinara pizza, no more calamari fritters, no
more weekends hanging out at the beach and no
more yachting holidays for the jet set. There’ll be no
more clouds with silver linings and no

more rain on your dahlias. You will be forever grounded.
I’m off to Orion for my new job as Head of Desert Prevention.
My advice in these dying days is to forget love, it will fail you.
Read Dostoevsky and respect your cat, he is wiser than you know.

And before I could protest, she disappeared,
dancing and leaping into a vortex of spray.

 

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Photographic image created by the author

8 thoughts on “The New York Times Interview With Ms Ocean

  1. Emily never hardly left the house or found love, or so history tells us. Now, I believe “love” as we think of it is a human invention, and way too much time, money, effort, blood, sweat, and tears is devoted to the “romantic” version of it, more sex than love in my opinion. Nevertheless, it is interesting and instructive and inspirational to experience it at least once, don’t you think?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I agree with your views about romantic love. Not sure any more what it is or if it actually exists except in movies and books. Romantic love makes people behave irrationally and can be self-destructive. Certainly didn’t do me any good that’s certain!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Imagine the cat or dog or whatever in romantic love with someone. An interesting story idea. That’s why I say “love” as it is popularly conceived is a human invention.

        Liked by 1 person

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