Hmm. Not sure where I got this. I remember reading it when it came out, but something tells me this is not my copy. I have this vague recollection of losing or giving away or selling my copy. Now, interestingly, there is an inscription written in neat cursive with a black felt tip pen on the inner flap. It reads as follows:
Due Date 7/23/93
I have known one Edie in my life. Edie Mulholland. She was the mother of my high school friend, Tom. I know for certain that I have one book in my library acquired from the Mulholland library -- The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats, which they gave me in college.
I guess there is a possibility that someone in the Mulholland clan gave me this book. I am going to have to look into the matter.
Sth, I know that woman. She used to live with a flock of birds on Lenox Avenue. Know her husband, too. He fell for an eighteen-year-old girl with one of those deepdown, spooky loves that made him so sad and happy he shot her just to keep the feeling going. When the woman, her name is Violet, went to the funeral to see the girl and to cut her dead face they threw her to the floor and out of the church. She ran, then, through all that snow, and when she got back to her apartment she took the birds from their cages and set them out the windows to freeze or fly, including the parrot that said, "I love you."
Wednesday, April 6, 2011