In those days
It was all bad dreams
And unrequited clarinet
Imprudent concoctions
Suggesting a commitment to forgetting
More rabid than hope
“Had we but a garret
We could set to rights!”
Potemkin women
Dostoyevsky fellows
Part of me buried
With each son extinguished
That violinist
Owed Paris lights
Accolades and acolytes
Death – ever ecstasy-
Ever alone
Musician
Transforms mud to meadow
Cannon fodder to choir
Plan on forgetting
In the streets
And in the sheets.
What was that line?
“There was three of us this morning, I am the only one this evening”*
And B-A-N-A-L
I covet the dead men’s jam.
Do you know that I’d make you another moon,
If you’d promise me music?
“Play it again Sam”
My tears can salt my glass
The devil’s got the tab
Don’t need no mirror
To tally sins –
Paper tell truths
Too many names to remember
Too many to forget.
NanaBjörn Wandering 2022
*Leonard Cohen “The Partisan” Songs from a Room
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