by Larry Brody
NOTE FROM LB
No showbiz in this one. No Navajo Dog either. Just, well, you’ll see soon enough. (Alternate titles: LA Life, Life in the Slow Lane, Real Suits…)
Guys With Ties
Years ago, when I was another me—
Striding giant-like over the withering
Turf of L.A.—I saw a fight on the
Side of the freeway. Two businessmen had pulled over
—For what reason I can’t say—and were whaling
At each other, ties flapping in the wind. Guys with
Ties fighting! Not just yelling, or swearing, or pushing
But using their fists just like they had seen on TV.
Traffic was at a standstill, so I watched for a time,
And I realized I was seeing something so important
That it had actually made me feel. Never would
I be able to understand, or communicate with, the
Tie-tacked gladiators, but I could sense their
Frustration and their outrage, their dissatisfaction, and
Their need to draw blood. My pulse quickened,
And my temperature soared. My chest
Tightened and squeezed. I was wearing
Levi’s, and an Armani T-shirt, one of a dozen
I had bought at a hundred dollars a pop, but
At home I too had ties. Hand-painted, silk,
Gorgeous works suitable for framing. Never
Had any of my ties been worn.
When the freeway finally started moving again,
I drove straight to the house, and went to my tie drawer,
Put on a ‘Forties antique. Just wrapped it
Around my Armani, and looked at myself
In the mirror.
Sure enough, I was dangerous. Dangerous
As could be. Ready to tackle the whithering
Dithering road.
But then I put away the tie. I was a wealthy
Man then, and didn’t need such a sign.
Business was for fighters, and while I was a
Warrior of words, they were wasted ones,
Filled with knowledge alone. Without the
Fighters to watch, I felt nothing. A few days
Later, I gave away all the ties. They had become
Nothing but symbols of need.
Larry Brody is the head dood at TVWriter™. He is posting at least one poem a week here at TVWriter™ because, as the Navajo Dog herself once pointed out, “Art has to be free. If you create it for money, you lose your vision, and yourself.” She said it shorter, though, with just a snort.
