Memories of a Small Town

SCOTT FAVERSHAM

Photos: David Green

Star athlete

Golden boy

School's handsomest.

I saw him last week →

Too much weight now,

Not enough hair now. Lines of care now. Strange to think There was a time

When I wet dreamed of him Every night.

It was trone, really, That Buddy Anderson, Whose favorite sport

Was beating up queers

In the park

By the University

Should have been gang-banged In the back of the van

Taking him to the County Jail For car theft.

Randy Richards "Big as a horse” "Tough as a mule

Remember the time

He threw three guys

Out of that bar For talking smart"

And the stories

You heard about The women he had”

But one Saturday night

Under the bridge

In Jefferson Park

I learned things abonit

Randy Richards

That no one else in town

Ever knew-

I think.

When that gruff bachelor,

Lawyer Ellingham,

Died of a sudden heart attack. Heirs found a closet filled with Negligees, golden shippers, Lacey undies, evening gowns, And panty hose.

Obviously the lawyer Had a mistress-

Someone quite tall and heavyObviously.

Richard Frommers Called home one day

From his job in the feed mill. "I can't bear it any more!” Was all he said.

He was gone for three years Before he showed up again, But fie looked much younger, Everyone agreed. Perhaps it was his hair. Dyed now, and styled -

Or the flushy clothes,

He mentioned visiting New Orleans, Amsterdam, And some Arab cities.

Arney Weber, Chucky Jones, Bunk McGune, Steve Arvell – Fillars of society now Plumber, salesman. Tax collector, eterkMarried all, Fathers all.

Do they ever remember That rainy afternoon When we climbed

To the loft of Miller's barn

And lay in the hay

And – experimented?

I do.

When we said goodbye at the station

I kept my arms close

Instead of embracing you.

I kept my hands close Instead of touching you. My lips spoke trite phrases Instead of kissing you.

Men don't weep, ar cry out, Ur cling close to each other In my town.

We always talked so seriously And on such a high plane~ And so politely.

It never occurred to me

That perhaps you wanted me

As much as I wanted you.

I didn't realize that

Until I was far away from my town, And by then it was too late~ Much too late.

I did not learn of love In fields of flowers in spring, For me no candlelight and wine No moonlit grove, no nightingale, No lingering touch, no tender kiss. No gentle sighs,

To put it bluntly-

I learned of love

In the bus station toilet

And the bushes of Jefferson Park. Furtive, exciting, dangerous, ugly! Try to understand, my dear, I've never quite outgrown my pastAnd I'm sorry truly I am.

Unknown poets,

Whose writings on a wall

Absorbed me as no classic ever did.

Unknown artists.

Whose drawings on a wall

Istudied as I never did

Galleried masterpieces.

You lived in my townPerhaps next door. Or down the block.

Did I know you?