Jurgen Gothe, One More Time

In 1998, in the inaugural issue of NUVO magazine, I published a set of four poems by Jurgen Gothe. It was the second time around for the poems--I had published them in 1966 in Vancouver Life. When the issue came out, Don Cromie, who was the money behind the magazine, said, "I just don't know what to make of these." Here they come again--for the third time around.

Memos to Myself...and Some Other People I Haven't Seen Lately

                   Jurgen Gothe

ONE

My Blue Heaven:
here is a place so full of smoke
that I can't even see myself,
even in mirrors.
and they serve the most fan-
       tastic drinks and there's an
electric guitar and a Hammond
       organ and on Mondays...
well, on Mondays,
a whole Gypsy carnival moves
       in.
After we have all had
our predicted fortunes read,
and plans mapped out for us
      for one more week,
we all go into the back rooms,
where the Gypsy girls are
      waiting.
The one I got was named
       Janice,
and wasn't really Gypsy,
but a secretary from Kensing-
       ton (near Montreal) looking
       for work.
and since my phone was being
       taken out tomorrow,
I gave her my number and told
       her to call.

TWO

Miss Claudia C.
comes by every
Thursday to clean
the windows and let
the dog out.
Rent is payable in
advance, thank you.
Good bye.

I hung up my coat
and wine skin and
my first thought was
damn, I know so little
Italian, she'll talk
about me with the cook.

THREE

(After Fred Katz and Trio.
The album: Eastern Exposure)

One White Whale:
I had it left over
from the party,
because nobody was hungry
     any more,
and I kept it in the ice-box
for a week or so,
and watched it,
hoping to find out something
drastically true and reasonable
      from it...
but I learned
(too late)
they didn't keep in vermouth.
Such a shame!
I had to pour it all away,
and the whale stopped up the
       sink,
and there was an awful mess
in the kitchen.

FOUR

Cooking in the court
of King Henry
wasn't that bad a job,
and certainly
the fringe benefits
were all as good
(or better)
as the paper
had advertised;
except,
I learned to dislike
harpsichord
background music
intensely.

Vancouver and Winnipeg, 1964/6