-A Requiem for Olive Goffe-

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Reads: "Look Up Alumni."

Let’s see what's going on.
Let's intrude into the lives of those
Who never had a chance.

Let’s see who made a lot of money;
Who died ingloriously on the field of lily pads.
Let's see who made the grade.

Let’s find out what the living
And the dead are up to.

Where’s Bob Bradbury,— 
Lanky Junior High School nuisance 

Who ran my noisy school's campaign for Veep

Pressing the snotty seventh graders against the green-

Plastered walls of the corridors

Demanding their commitment?

"Don't be a Queer Vote for D'Elia"!

Where's Joy Liebman––
Brainy beauty,

Queen of her saddle-shoes

Poised on the classroom floor

Toe to toe?

Look Up Alumni,—

Where's Olive Goffe?

Poor Olive Goffe.

Plain Olive Goffe.

Olive in tatters.

Sweet Olive in tears?

What's become of Joanie Sperling–– 
Well-endowed three years before her natural time

Who sold herself by the touch of our palms
Behind the fence for the lunch-money 

Donated to her by our clueless mothers?

What's happened to the simmering
Sheryll Barnes,

Prancing drum majorette
Crossing December's half-
Time gridiron
Whose fleshy knees were hot
As raw cotton?

What's become of the grey-
Eyed girl once locked
In my skinny arms

Sheltered from the dark,
Beady eyes
Of old Miss Sykes?
Elaine of the cloakroom.
Elaine of the clouds.

Look Up Alumni—

Elaine San Marcos

Pressed to the coats on winter's hooks,

The Halo scent of jet-

    Stone hair in the morning

        Perfume of the Projects
            Below the hill

                At the edge of the river
                    When the trees were still growing.



Quequechan