There were days that even Judy had the Blues.
But there are days when all lost souls do...
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
The Seduction
your hand that rests beside you
while you sit taps out a silent
beat; this pulse behind my ear
begins to imitate that beat.
"Are we conversant drums," I wonder,
and rest one hand on your knee,
draw up your skirt with the other.
"I am too cold to be so warm,"
is what you say, but I know
what that means; my hand between
your legs, I smile and say,
"How lovely you are; a beauty
that would suit any taste..."
rcs.
4th draft: 08/26/01
©1979 Ronald C. Southern
Posted by at 11:23 PM
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Judy Garland's Blues
Why was Judy Garland sad?
Did she have everything—but not love?
What drove Judy Garland mad,
Or do I give her too much credit?
Was she just privately unlucky, after all the public luck?
Did she have two armfuls of nothing in the worn valises
She dragged into another mansion of expenses, pills, and airs
Amid lost things never declared, forever beyond her reach?
Did she have everything—but not love?
Was she too often left behind as a child
Or was she poisoned in the vein
As by too many drinks or a rattlesnake...
Twisted by some familial demon spirit she became
That Voodoo spirit, the reel and spin, the deadly living blues,
Forever frightened—no matter her age or image or magic—
Of what to choose and what to lose, out of control to the end?
Did she, like you, like me, have everything—
But could not feel the love that others gave
Or stay as brave as needed every moment?
rcs.
Current draft: 4/12/2010
3rd draft: 04/26/05
©2004 Ronald C. Southern
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[This is a separate and different title from the blog title.]
The Creature
Ron Southern,
Chigger, Texas, USA
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