I've been a practicing psychoanalyst since l984 and have been publishing case studies that read like short stories for years in places like The Psychoanalytic Review and The Partisan Review. For the past few years I've been meaning to publish a jargon-free book for the general public: The Man In The BMW and Other Psychoanalytic Stories but each time I'm ready to tie them all together I get waylaid by theater. Or a new book of poems. Finally my wife, Linda, and I are going to finish the book of ten "stories." If you're interested you can find the Man In The BMW on Google.
Just for a moment, it is years ago.
We’re kids again, we’re giggling in bed
In winter, listening to the radio.
Downstairs Katherine screams. “Antonio!”
And swings her broom an inch above his head.
I punch the air and sing,“Fortissimo!”
The music stops and it begins to snow.
Katherine is in her kitchen baking bread.
The streets are empty. We get dressed to go
Pounding down wooden stairs, bravissimo
And write, “We claim this town,
Linda and Fred.”
Katherine reminds us that it’s ten below
And the moment thaws. I hear the tiptoe
Of depression through my head
Again. I squeeze the wind out of my pillow
In rhythm with the dirty snow
Sweeping down the window. I leave the bed
Only once – to call the newlyweds
Upstairs to shut their thumping radio.
©2017 Frederick Feirstein
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