Poems and Thoughts by Frank Maurer
My Brother John.My brother John was two years younger than I
And two years older than my sister, Susan.
The two, being part of an odd number of siblings,
Would often form an alliance, leaving me the third one out.
I was often in some brotherly combat where I thought I might harm him.
There were times,when a conflict would become too aggressive,
And therefore I would run and hide in the locked bathroom,
So as not to cause a possible injury.
John was a very good looking boy.
He was very popular and behaved as a cool kid.
I would ride my bike everywhere,
Carrying a briefcase in high school and wearing a trench coat.
John would have none of that by walking and carrying a bookbag.
I listened to and played classical music,
While John was a 'pop guy'--the Top Twenty.
I went to college (Antioch) and he became a walking postman.
John married a young woman--I forget her name.
He 'rescued' her from a family struggling and aspiring to be 'upper class'.
The parents were forcing her to come out as a debutante.
She wanted none of it; John and she married;
I was not there, but my parents were the only guests at the wedding.
If there were other reasons, I do not know of them.
Later I had an Antioch Coop job in the San Francisco area--Richmond--
Working as a biologist, collecting whale specimens
In the last of whaling in the United States.
John and Ann--her name I now remember--
Came to visit me at my coop job area, meeting me in Chinatown.
Marriage had matured John and we three had a wonderful time:
I remember taking several photos--
One of John standing up on the base of a lamp post.
Back to work, I was sampling whale vitals as they were brought in for slaughter.
One night about 2 AM, as I remember,
The payphone in the hallway rang--
I thinking it was notice of the boats once again arriving.
It was my father, saying John was hunting and had been killed by a stray bullet.
My knees weakened with confusion, but a determination came over me.
I wandered through the streets of Point Richmond,
Ending up at Gretta Tedrick's house (at 2 AM)-- a family I had befriended.
They let me in and I listened to Bach's B Minor Mass on their record player.
Afterwhich, I flew to Pacific Palisades and the funeral.
I talked a lot with Ann's sister and walked with he
Through the chaparral in the neighborhood.
At the chapel, I remember requesting some music by Bach;
I had, thus, prevented some schmaltzy, 'nothing' music to be played.
There was a reception perhaps, or some gettogether at the house.
Life went on and flowed into all the kaleidoscope of events that have followed.
Do read my several written thoughts and be informed of other remnants of my life.
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