Chicago Strawberry Blonde…by Robert M. Katzman
Robert M. Katzman’s Amazing Story:
Robert M. Katzman’s Amazing Story
© January 29, 2013 (dates updated 1/27/2020)
Something romantic
Please
For a moment
53 years ago,
January 27, 1967
Chicago
Had its greatest snowstorm
Ever
I was trapped in my mother’s house
(where I didn’t live)
With a bunch of my sister’s
College friends
There for a party, also trapped
I was 16
Not a cool 16
Over the next three days
I managed to
Fall in love with this
Tall
Willowy
Strawberry Blonde
An older woman of 18
Who invited me to neck
With her
The first night of that party
As if I knew
What to do
It became a
Passionate
Three days
Then, she was gone
It killed me
I was a junior in high school
She was a freshman at University of Illinois in Carbondale
No chance
No chance for me
Now I’m near 70 and the girl?
She’s 72
But to me, she’s forever 18
No more to say
She’s the one that got away
She did write letters to me
I’d read them
At midnight
Over and over
I still have them
I saw her again one more time
Nine months later
(don’t make anything of that)
After I bought a car
At 17
I had to drive to
Southern Illinois
Managed to make a fool
Of myself
Because of how intensely
I felt about her
Then
She introduced me
To her
New fiance
It was a
Long
Long
Drive home
That day was our last contact.
Was it my worst moment ever?
It was perfect.
Passion in amber.
Pet Clark singing
“My Love”
On the record player
The dreamiest girl in the room
Wants to neck with me?
On the couch?
When I couldn’t get a date
In high school?
Couples lying all around us
In the dark
I had to look around
To figure out
What to do
Two hours earlier
I’d read poetry
In this big room
Filled with college people
To my amazement
They listened
The Strawberry Blonde
Must have really liked them
Or me, evidently
First time I learned
That
Poetry
Really
Matters
I can still
Remember
Her scent
Oh Jesus!!
***
Katzman’s Publishing Company site: www.FightingWordsPubco.com
Katzman’s online non-fiction stories: www.DifferentSlants.com
Poetry? For me, writing poetry is not an option.
It’s a response to emotion. Like cigarette smoke,
it’s fast-flowing, shapeless and with little time to capture it.
Writing poetry in an imperative. I say what I feel compelled to say.
I sell my five published books via mail order and accept major credit cards.
Fast, reliable service. Read my stories and see what you think.
I’m also available for hire to read my true Chicago stories to organizations
and answer all questions. I autograph my books when I sell them.
I am currently seeking an agent to do more readings.
Feel free to call me at the number above.