Friday, August 19, 2011

Gypsy





Gypsy

I’m closing down the Muse Factory.
Blue collar Aphrodite
is on strike.
The college boys,
they’re all the same.
Walk on the wild side,
then walk away.
That 7:00 AM bell,
that assembly line,
that Monday morning hell,
just ain’t for you.

Sail on, my little honey bee, sail on,
but you wear that blue shirt long enough
the color gets into your skin.

It’s a recession, you know;
people are getting laid off, not laid.
Providing poetry porn for the masses
is a low end
low paid low down job.
I’d rather be a highwayman:

Stand and Deliver.

Identity theft,
poetry default swaps
have left me broke.

Cupid and Psyche best
get ready for
the Big D;
you can talk about it on Nancy Grace,
but I won't be tuning in
because we’re in for a double dip,
and I for one
am running away with
the gypsies.


August 2011


11 comments:

  1. The blue vibe's voltage is almost overwhelming, isn't it? I had a sweet sounding poem to post today and decide instead to be true to my gut and vomit something similar to this. At least you managed to make a poem out of a farewell-to-poetry theme. How did Frost put it? Like a piece of ice on a hot stove/ the poem must ride on its own melting. I'll venture the gypsy call hearkens to your on-the-move past -- when holding on to what little remains is just too damn difficult, then fly on ... Not far from their, either, though I'm tethered by love and its working pinions, held fast to this rock of a home while the black bird of the times picks away at me bleedin' liver. Honey, it aint no rock n roll show, and "poetry porn for the masses" is worthless. There's free porn by the bushy bushel out there on the Inet, as there is a bottomless rant of poems, and the Old Ones, well, their hearing ain't so good any more... We can't lost both Hedgewitch and Fireblossom in the same wee, can we, Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn out on the road agin? Heaven forfend ... well, save me a leg of cooked ribbit. I'm melting, too. - Brendan

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  2. You can't. One of us has to represent. I hope this is just a (good) poem, and not a declaration of intent. I would even be willing to break my silence if you will stay. The gypsies will always be there, and anyway, we taught them everything they know.

    Sings: baby please don't go...baby pleasedun goooooo...(insert guitar riff)

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  3. : (

    i would like to think you are just writing...poetry porn...smiles...getting laid off not laid...some fun lines mixed in with the more sombre...use your voice, dont lose it...it is needed...

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  4. Yikes - if people are getting laid off, I'd hate to think they aren't getting any of the fun stuff of life either ;)

    Poetry porn...yeah...there's a lot of that. But there's a lot of substance, too, once it's all been put through the sieve.

    I had a horse named Gypsy. She was my great escape so she was aptly named. :)

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  5. The Gypsy life! That's the ticket... what country????

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  6. @annell: I don't know, but this one's no country for old women. ;-)

    @Talon: You cracked me up, dear. And thanks for mentioning the horse--I used to ride long ago, and it's an escape indeed.

    @brian and FB--just a 4 AM rant, friends. I get cranky sometimes. I try not to write about writing about writing about it, but sometimes it slips in.

    @B:If I catch any frogs, I promise I will save the ribbit for you. No, this is just child of a vile mood and a back-against-the-wall reflex, as you say, since running's saved me from a lot of horrors, but I don't think it will do much good this time. I'm here for the duration, munched-on liver and all, but I may spit a bit of bile occasionally just to get the taste out of my mouth.

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  7. Oh be still, my heart - if there were to ever be a week with no Fireblossom AND no Hedgewitch, I would seriously have to consider what to do with the rest of my life. :) Such good writing, kiddo, as always. The double dip sounds scary but I have lived in its hollows forever, so it's same old, same old for me:)

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  8. :( poetry porn and running away....nooooooooo. Nice write, Joy.

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  9. Thanks ladies.

    @MZ Always room for another gypsy wench.

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  10. That is one of my all time favorite songs. you mentioned :
    "because we’re in for a double dip,
    and I for one
    am running away with
    the gypsies."
    Come to California, we have a lot Gypsies here.
    Loved the poem.

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg