Distilled and Matured by the Sea

When I walk through my kitchen today and see that tall box of scotch  Old Pulteney (Est. 1826—“Distilled and Matured By The Sea”) I see  

that building in Boston the Bostonians call “The Pru”— it’s indelible!

The sight of that 52 stories’ tall tower is indelible, memory magnetizing, because I walked by it, around it, and under it all the time, and then walked downtown across the far bridge out to Cambridge and work. 

One building in those beautiful old reddish Back Bay buildings, 

between the river and The Pru, was where I lived in 1984; 

three festive months but lost the job in a sudden two month surprise, 

kicked out on my November birthday, I’m homeless all over Boston!

But even then, that reddish building was still home; exciting 

cold nights, down in the basement, asleep by the fire-blasting iron boiler. 

(I still had my key to the building, snuck in real late, last Last Call. 

Come summer of 1985, I threw the key in the river for luck and left 

Boston back to Kansas City on the long train to Union Station!)