25 April 2014

Millicent. Miriam. Birds of a feather.

Millicent lived in my father’s bathtub, until he decided that the bathroom needed to be renovated. It’s awfully nice having a sturdy tile floor underfoot, instead of thinking that the toilet was going to plunge through the rotted old wood, but it was sad to see Millicent go. Someday, we’re going to stand her upright in the barn attic, facing the window, with a pinspot on her – Millicent on the half shell, if you will.

She came to mind because I found a delightful little ditty of a poem on Facebook not too long ago.

Careless Talk (by Mark Hollis)

Was ill.
In his delirium
He spoke about Miriam.
This was an error
As his wife was a terror,
As Joan.

Being unsatisfied with knowing nothing about poem or poet, I dove down the search rabbit hole. I can’t find out anything about the poet, though there are three people named Mark Hollis on Wikipedia (an English musician, and American athletic director, and an Australian actor), but the poem seems to have been set to music twice, by Paul Sjolund, and by Richard Wilson.

In any case, I do think Miriam and Millicent are soul sisters.


Jeanne said...

"Let me call you sweetheart" I've forgotten your name.