Terrace Inn, Coral Gables, Florida, Room 228
Today, I left my family.
It couldn’t be helped. I had to go to Miami Beach to see the
Ruth and Marvin Sackner Archive of Concrete and Visual Poetry. It is one of my favorite places on the planet, and I needed to do some research there.
I left the Mikes’ home today in a rush, such a rush that I cannot remember if I actually hugged and kissed Nancy good-bye. At Nancy’s insistence, I did wake up Tim, asleep on the sofa-bed, and give him a hug. Then I drove away, but during my trip to Bob Grumman's a certain traveling theme song of my family's (the equivalent of the
National Lampoon's Vacation theme for the Griswolds) came on the radio: Tom Cochrane's, “Life is a Highway." In a mood a little perkier, I picked up famed visual poet Bob Grumman at his home, and we continued across the state to the quaint island nation (or nation of islands) that we call Miami Beach. There we spent a few good hours chatting with the Sackners about visual poetry, learning about their new acquisitions, touring their beautiful home filled with all kinds of verbo-visual art, and doing some research on visual poetry. We had a wonderful time. My only regret was that it was so short. I could easily stay there for weeks and not run out of books to read and art to reflect on.
But we had to go to dinner at the home of Cuban-American visual poet Carlos M. Luis and his wife Martha, who appeared to be competing with the Sackners for the honor of most gracious hosts. We had a long talk with Carlos about his work in the field of visual poetry, we all exchanged publications of ours. Carlos presented us with a few fine books of his visual poetry, and he gave each of us an original visual poem of our own choosing. I found so many of his visual poems beautiful that it took me at least ten minutes to decide on one.
Martha made a delicious dinner that didn’t seem to end. We began with a selection of cheeses, crackers, olives, and apple slices (coated with lemon juice to keep them from going brown, but this gave them something of the flavor of rosewater). For dinner, we had a green salad with tomatoes and just the right insouciant dressing, the best arroz con pollo I’ve ever had (and I’ve had it plenty of times) garnished with asparagus, and fried plantains that were sweet and tasty. Martha kindly made me fresh carrot juice, and we had wine, a guayabera dessert, and sweet Cuban espresso. After a long day without food, this was the best meal we could have hoped for.
We talked to Carlos and Martha about their careers in the airlines and publishing and teaching. About their children and grandchildren. About the art that covered the walls of their beautiful home. About their many travels and many homes.
And at the end of it all they encouraged us to find a hotel room for the night, so that is how we find ourselves tonight in Coral Gables, Florida.
And what happened with my family today? I’ve no idea. I miss them.
Tomorrow, we’ll find out what they did.
