The John Denver Literary: We Are Teri Garr

A poem

Teri Garr and John Denver in Oh, God! (1977) (photographer Michael Ochs)

I was in Milan
trying to be something
when I read the news:

maybe it hadn’t been so bad,
or wasn’t what people were really concerned about,
though the bastions seemed to be.

If you’re willing to be distracted,
they said, we’ll reward you
with someone who isn’t crazy.

And they were right. She made herself
by perfecting the ability to wake up
in places that went crazy little by little

and keep her head. She knew it’s all
in the eyes. That could never be me, I can't see
and I don't sleep, but I feel for her anyway.

We’ve all been architects of this crazy house
and the carpenters will have their due. Half
of us objected to the tools, but no matter.

We don’t recognize our spouse, and everywhere
people are leaving, the kids are jumping ship,
and George Burns isn’t coming to save us. But

it wouldn’t hurt to take a leaf and practice
appearances. No show, after all, without
intrigue, betrayal even. Look at Tootsie.

In memoriam Teri Garr (11 December 1944-29 October 2024). Have a drink with your co-stars.