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| Leonard Cohen Source: https://www.leonardcohen.com/photos/classics |
I saw you this morning,
you were moving so fast.
Can't seem to loosen my grip
On the past.
And I miss you so much,
there's no one in sight.
And we're still making love
In my secret life.
I smile when I am angry,
I cheat and I lie,
I do what I have to do
to get by,
In my secret life.
-from
“In My Secret Life” by Leonard Cohen
I HEARD YOU DIED TODAY WHICH HAS ME THINKING
How you taught me to tolerate the pain of the church pew, although
the pain of wooden floors that is until one day my ass fell asleep,
paralyzing from the waist down. How two bald, pint-sized nuns
dragged my arched limbs to the car in the pouring rain. I was so
embarrassed I never went back, choosing instead the decluttering
of prolonged walks in the tallgrass.
How your poems and songs will sink
in a pine box six feet under
cold grass. Many thousands fell in love with the sweet
pornography of your whispering breath, learning it’s OK to blush at the very best
parts of life. I can’t stand that there will be no more! So I’m replacing
my prairie walks with one across town to a statue of your beloved
Saint Kateri Tekakwitha in the monastery park where I’ll sing
“Hallelujah” in the hopes she (you) returns the favor.
How everyone has a favorite story. Mine is the one about Janis Joplin
coming to the Chelsea Hotel to meet
Kris Kristofferson for the first time. When she ran into you in the elevator and asked if you knew him, you
replied I am he. Then you both retired to your decrepit room for what
I assume was a taste of eternity in heaven.
How you once wrote that you rise on
everything that rises. How I
do too but fall on everything that
falls, which is a problem.
How by some great curse you lived to
hear the results of the election.
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| Janis Joplin Source: Internet |
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