Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Even Cowgirls Get The Blues*


I’ve heard tell that distance can induce psychosis of a sort.

That you can feel bipolarly giddy with excitement one moment;

Decidedly devastated the next.


This really is a tango for one not two;

like a complex arrangement rendered for solo guitar


The other stands no chance


For how do you 'hear'

when a word is merely seen?


Things do not always 'se repondent'; not always can you see

the collapsing of categories

long known,

long held

to correspond.


And this

in a love which speaks different tongues.

Sweet, languorous ecstasy.


Something meant,

Something heard.

Something pierced

Out of turn.


These are the perils of a love
faceless, nameless, sometimes woebegone.


* This title comes from the work of an author I love much, Tom Robbins. Anything else isn't his fault.

2 comments:

Green Peace said...

i find ways to cope with distance when enjoying it just doesn't cut it anymore.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4z4D6oF9Wzc

The answer, if you're looking for one, is still 42.

Harmony Siganporia said...

One of these days, I'm going to have a serious stab at the question, Raj. Just you wait.