The movers are the shakers
see them groove baby!
99 Becks and a bus ticket
We have a boardwalk, we can see the same stars!
But I still wish this was Brooklyn
or Santa Fé, Sacremento, una momento-
'Chateau Neuf du Pape Cristal, Garcon!
And make it snappy, like an allegorical sandwich !'
I wish this was what I had hoped it would be
you wouldn't have deserted me in
The Desert Inn
Lost Degas
Niet Nada
dim parkio
your stretch Limo
Nevada
would you?
11 comments:
I'm not sure I understand it but I do like reading it.
The fact we can see the same stars is only a consolation when one is actually looking at them. And I'm reminded, a tad randomly of something Hugh MacDiarmid said (however you spell him). He was a cheerful old so-and-so:
"In death we lose nothing that is truly ours."
Come to think of it, I don't know why he didn't go in for stand-up comedy.
Well that makes two of us Dominic!
It's just I sometimes wonder what our lives would be like if we simply existed somewhere else. Who would we be, how would things turn out.
I just read a small essay today that really made me (momentarily)yearn to live in New York. I suppose that was on my mind all day.
Yes, stars are only a consolation (constellation?) when we are looking at them I like that, it's night time I need them luckily!
Your comment about Hugh Mac made me laff!It's a good quote though, it could be comforting, but what if nothing is ever truly ours? Thanks Dom!
And you've hit the nail on the head there too.
'I'm not sure I understand it but I do like reading it.'
That for me is poetry!
Interesting and thought provoking. In your poems you often seem to be searching for something. I think I have been either too busy or too lazy to do that, or maybe, I too readily accept what comes my way without question.
Thanks Heather there's a 'want' in me! And you are 'creating' the whole time and being a hub of your family. You're too busy finding to be searching!
What a pity you are not going to Willow's cyber ball tonight - we could have had a dance and that might have cheered you up a bit (this is a bit of a depressing poem I feel) that is unless the dance was the tango, in which case I think we might both have died of frustration or embarrassment (this is assuming you can't tango either).
Cheerful poems are SO dull though Weaver, mainly.
But one day you and I Pat will borrow the farmers wellos, trip the lightfandangotastic together across moonlit fields, and at dawn when we are done the whole wide world will know that it's been tango'd!
Just nipped back to thank you for the lovely comment you left on my blog. By the way, I am very jealous of Weaver tripping the light fantastic with you by moonlight! We're competing for your attention you know!! Good job we're old enough to be your Mum and Mrs. Eejit needn't worry.
Nevada IS one helluva stretch limo, isn't it?
Are you returning?
WE can go dancing too Heather! Give me the moonlight give me the girls.....
It is Chris, although I've never been...YET!
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