H e a r t   S o n s   &   H e a r t   D a u g h t e r s   of   A l l e n   G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m   H e a l t h   S p a :   R e p o r t   2 0 1 4 :   A r c h i v e s   E d i t i o n

 

 

SHARON MESMER

 

 

What Happened To The Women Of Country Valley?

 

I loved the women of Country Valley.

And I know what happened to them.

At least I think I do.

I was a youth back then,

jonesing for a corgi,

and my thoughts of love were long, long thoughts.

At least that’s what I think I thought.

 

It happened when I was on the Merry-Go-Round.

It was an apple-green evening in Country Valley.

There was Susan, gray and faithful handmaiden,

and Miss Cornelia walking briskly along,

and Anne of Green Gables with goo all over —

a gusty group of daffodils on the old, mellow lawn.

 

They wore shiny space dresses gathered at the ankles

by elastic cuffs which extended over red glowing boots.

On their arms were large silver gauntlets

with flared arm coverings

extending halfway up their forearms.

I was the one they hypnotized.

 

I looked up and found myself

in a magical spell-weaving place:

the women of Country Valley

had let a highly excited, disobedient boy

loose upon their spaceship.

I don’t need hypnosis to recall this.

Memory erasing methods don’t work on me anyway.

 

Their spaceship looked like the most beautiful Legos,

Legos too beautiful to be made by humans.

It was decorated with fancy menstrual cup pouches

made of antique brocade fabric from Japan.

Miss Cornelia turned to me with a smile and said,

“Can you believe this is just an old RV

that became a Lego spaceship in our minds?”

 

Then I had the weirdest thought:

“Wouldn’t it be something

if the Fonz suddenly appeared?”

The Fonz could yell at Potsie

from the comfort of his spaceship

floating high above the earth!

Then the spaceship lands on the roof of SCTV,

leaves some cabbages, and takes off again!  

Come on, who wouldn’t want to spend

alien Christmas with the Fonz

on a spaceship hiding behind the Hale-Bopp comet?

Maybe then all the mysteries would be solved,

like how come that "Footloose" dude

never actually cut loose?

 

Then something bad happened:

a horde of evil monsters that looked like Flipper

rampaged down the peaceful mountains

led by evil Uncle Unicorn

who had the frightful ability to deliver swift flying kicks.

Anne of Green Gables got kicked first

and I cried, “Damn you with all the speed of the red bruchetta

that Geddy Lee's mother gave him!”

 

I swear to god, if I was Jesus,

I would have killed that unicorn everytime he directed

an episode of “The A-Team.”

All I would’ve needed was Anna-Nicole’s dead body,

many sixes of Genesee Cream Ale

and a Bard College sweatshirt from the college bookstore.

 

But then the Fonz really did appear

with his army of anthropomorphic ducks

who fight aliens with hockey gadgets

in t-shirts that say “Milwaukee To Bronze The Fonz!”

It was the highest level of mutancy

that someone as sensitive as Fonz could achieve.

How potent was the Fonz in combat?

No god in the world could’ve beat the Fonz.

 

I'm in Seattle right now, in a youth hostel,

sitting in a room crying.

The Army doesn't want anyone

to know what really happened.

Why must the Fonz

continue to be denied any type of fame?

Since nothing will be done about this

at the government level

I guess we really will have to

defend the Fonz ourselves.

 

I don’t live in Country Valley anymore.

I live in Silicon Valley.

Um, no I don’t; I live in Florida.

Okay, I live behind Emu Mountain.

But I still love the women of Country Valley.

I think I always will.

At least that’s what I think I think.

 

 

[Originally published in NHS 2008, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs08/Sharon_Mesmer.htm.]